


Fate/Ex-Destiny

by TheAlmightyZod



Category: Fate/EXTRA, Fate/stay night & Related Fandoms
Genre: Action, Action/Adventure, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Complete, Drama, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Tragedy/Comedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-02
Updated: 2020-06-20
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:48:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 26
Words: 156,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21643945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheAlmightyZod/pseuds/TheAlmightyZod
Summary: The year is 2029. Mana is disappearing from the World. A Final Holy Grail War is held, some with the intention of restoring the Magical World. But one thing is certain... this will be the end. Please R&R. All servants are original creations.
Comments: 18
Kudos: 12





	1. Beginning of the End

Chiaki Nakazawa stood ready. The Summoning Circle was before her, the incantations were set, and the timing was right. She was ready to summon her servant.

She had waited for this moment for so long, and she was finally going to engage in the Holy Grail War. She still remembered hearing her father speak about the one nearly twenty-five years prior. He hadn’t participated, but he worked for the man who did. The man who ended up winning that Grail War and taking control of most of the world.

Kayneth El-Melloi Archibald.

Though Archibald had long since passed, and the second El-Melloi had held power since then. Now there was an opportunity to change all that. To change everything in her world. With the wish of the Final Holy Grail, she would set things right. She didn’t care if Magecraft continued to be in this world, nor did she care who ruled it. All she cared about was revenge and she finally had that within her grasp.

She extended her hand towards the Summoning Circle, lightly glancing at her Command Seal. It resembled a sun or star, she supposed. 

“Let Silver and Steel be the essence-”

The wind began to pick up in her room as the Summoning Circle glowed red with light.

“Let stone and the archduke of contracts be the foundations. Let rise a wall against the wind that shall fall-”

The wind picked up even higher, throwing the various loose papers she had in the room around. She silently cursed herself for not securing them before she began.  _ Well… no going back now. _

“Let the four cardinal gates close. Let the three-forked road from the crown reaching unto the Kingdom rotate-”

The Summoning Circle grew even brighter. She felt there being a connection between herself and the Throne of Heroes. There were strange substances, numbering in the nameless thousands, that she couldn’t see or even feel all that well… but she knew they were there, just beyond this dimension.

“Let it be declared now; your flesh shall serve under me, and my fate shall be with your sword-”

The substances were disappearing quickly. Had she somehow messed up? No… the Grail was sorting through them. Picking the perfect Heroic Spirit for her. Her skin tingled as she continued.

“Submit to the beckoning of the Holy Grail. Answer, if you would submit to this will and this truth-”

The spirits were less than a hundred now. She could even begin to feel their unique differences between each other. It was overwhelming, but she stayed standing, mostly because she couldn’t fully understand the process of what was going on, and that which she did understand she blocked out in order to continue.

“An oath shall be sworn here-”

Less than fifty now.

“I shall attain the virtues of all of Heaven-”

Less than ten.

“I shall have dominion over all evils of all of Hell-”

Only one.

“From the Seventh Heaven, attended to by three great words of power, come forth from the ring of restraint, protector of the holy balance!”

The Summoning Circle seemed to be struck by lightning and exploded with light, and Chiaki felt her soul slightly be pulled forward as the world seemed to bend around her. She couldn’t see, but she felt as though a perfect hole were plucked out of the world, and that one final substance was pushed through it. No… not pushed. Pulled through, by her. She had done it. She had summoned a Heroic Spirit.

The light began to die, and her mind quickly realized the gravity of the situation. These Heroic Spirits were unbelievably powerful. She had to be certain that the Servant she ended up with liked her, or at least they had to have a good understanding of one another. The first step was respect. No… no no, the first step was confidence. Or was the first step bargaining?

Okay, she had forgotten the first step.

She decided to move past that and determined that regardless of what the first step was, she couldn’t show weakness, even for a second.

The light disappeared entirely, and a servant stood in the center of the summoning circle. He was tall, muscular and handsome. A paragon of a man, no doubt. He had flowing blonde hair and bright red eyes. He had no clothes on save for a white garment around his waist that fell to his knees, leather bracers and armored sandals around his feet and calves.

_ Obviously Greek. That's good. Greek heroes are powerful, _ she thought to herself.

She had nearly missed it, but he had a golden string wrapped tightly around the entirety of his right arm, almost like a second skin. Could he be…?

Her thought process was interrupted by him taking a step forward with a furrowed brow, eyes focused on her. Wow, he was big. He looked about seven feet tall. He stood over her, and could see his eyes begin to study her.

_ No fear. No fear. No fear, _ she repeated to herself.

The servant began to walk around her, sizing her up.

She cleared her throat and then spoke. “Now listen. I summoned you, and that makes me your Master. I understand you’re powerful, and I respect that, but we should get to an understanding of one another right away. So-”

“Nice ass.”

She was struck silent by the comment. She turned and look back at him to see him crouched down and lifting up her skirt.

All her fear vanished in that moment, replaced with rage. “What the hell do you think you’re doing!?” she shouted, whipping around and throwing a slap at him.

Faster than her eyes could track, he moved his head out of the way of her hand, letting go of her skirt.

“Legs aren’t bad, either.”

“Just who the hell do you think you are?” Chiaki screamed in frustration.

The servant smiled. He stood up again, placing his massive hands on his hips. “It’s as you said. I am your servant, aren’t I?”

“What kind of servant begins groping his master before even establishing a-... no, for that matter, what kind of Servant gropes their Master?”

“What kind of Master doesn’t allow their Servant to grope them? In Greece, we’d have had several bouts in the bedroom before we got to anything like a contract. But I suppose times change…” the servant murmured to himself, turning and walking for the door.

“What? Where are you going?” Chiaki called, running after him.

The servant opened the door, walking up the steps that were revealed there. “Are we in an underground chamber? Where is this?”

“It’s my… it’s my apartment. Now, just stay where you are, alright?” Chiaki berated.

The servant stopped halfway up the stairs. He turned his head. “What is it, Master? Should I not be able to see our base of operations?”

“I don’t even know what your True Name is. For that matter, I don’t even know your class! Shouldn’t we get that stuff out of the way first?”

The servant just stared for a moment. “I suppose, but it’s really not necessary. For any other Servant, maybe it would be, but you’re lucky enough to have the mightiest hero of Greece at your side. All other considerations are meaningless in the light of that fact.”

“Impossible… a pervert like you is…” Chiaki could barely speak, partly from the anger, and partly from the shock.

She hadn't even used a relic. She thought it wiser to get a Servant with good compatibility first and use strategy to defeat the others… but had her luck truly brought her the strongest Heroic Spirit out there?

Chiaki noticed he had exited the stairwell, and had no doubt begun to mull about her apartment upstairs. She ran after him.

The midday sun had begun to cast it’s illumination through her curtains, causing the entire apartment to flare with golden light. She moved to the Kitchen, where the servant had opened the fridge and was rummaging through its contents.

Chiaki took a few deep breaths. She could still salvage this. She took a step forward and entered the kitchen behind him.

“You’re not exactly what I expected.”

The servant turned, his mouth full of bread and his arms full of various other foodstuffs. His response was muffled for obvious reasons.

“What are you doing? Servants don’t need food.”

The servant laid his foodstuffs on the counter and bit off the piece of bread in his mouth, chewing and swallowing before laying the bread down as well.

“Servants also don’t need to sleep, or drink, or have sex, or ride fast vehicles… I want to try one of the ‘cars’ while I’m here, by the way.”

“This isn’t a vacation.”

“Might as well be. I told you before, there is no one stronger than me. And if there is, I’ll just surpass them easily.”

“I have no doubt, considering that you are who you are… but being strategic about it couldn’t hurt.”

The servant shrugged and began pulling apart the bread. “But strategies take too long. I want to enjoy myself in this era.”

Chiaki sighed. “Just humor me then. I know a ton of healing magecraft, but I have little of anything else. In a straight up fight, a well-trained Magus could kill me easily.”

The servant glanced at her, but continued working. “What about the Lightning Cestus? You have that, don’t you?”

Chiaki was surprised again. She cleared her throat. “And how would you know about that?”

“I saw a paper downstairs showing the proper form for using them. That, combined with your knuckles having a little irritation on them leads to a single conclusion. You use Lightning Cestus.”

Chiaki was speechless.  _ He was barely even down there… Exactly how much did he see in that short amount of time? _

“Um… well… even so. They really can only work in certain occasions, and I’ve barely used them in real combat. If we want any chance in winning this war, you’ll have to stick close by me.”

“Fine with me. Having a pretty face around is always a plus.”

“That  _ also _ means that you can’t go running off into fights randomly. If I get attacked by the Assassin-class servant and you’re not nearby, I’m done for. Make sure you keep an eye on me.”

“Oh hoh… that is  _ definitely _ not a problem.”

Chiaki growled to herself. She moved into the living room.

“Am I going to have to be wearing extremely baggy clothing when around you?”

“I don’t think that's a good idea. What if it gets caught and snags on something? No, it’s best if you wear clothing that's nice and snug. Also show plenty of skin, you don’t want to get overheated in case you have to start running from an enemy.”

Chiaki buried her face in one of her hands.  _ How the hell was this guy the strongest? _

“You’re insufferable, and I’ve barely known you for five minutes.”

“That  _ is _ strange. Then again, most other women I meet would have a much different first five minutes…”

She folded her arms and turned back towards the Kitchen, seeing him exit with a massive sandwich in one hand, and a pitcher of juice and a glass in the other. He handed her the glass. She took it.

“Well then, I’ll let you take the lead on where we begin, Master. Since you’re the strategist, I’ll follow your orders and accomplish them easily,” the servant continued, pouring the juice into her glass.

“Well, you don’t lack for confidence… I suppose you’ll do as my Servant.”

“And you don’t lack for sexiness. I’ll gladly accept you as my Master.”

They clinked their glasses together. He held his pitcher aloft. “Here’s to the Holy Grail War, and our assured victory!”

Chiaki took a sip from her glass and watched as the servant guzzled down the rest of the pitcher. She could see him move his tongue around in his mouth afterwards. “...this is strange wine.”

“I’ll get some better stuff from the store. Anyway, I still have one question to ask.”

“To satisfy your curiosity? Go ahead, then.”

“I know I shouldn’t call you your True Name, so calling you by your class name would be better, but I never got your class.”

The servant had been munching on his sandwich, and thought about it before swallowing.

“That makes sense. If anyone knew my True Name, they’d all flee in terror, and we’d never be able to kill them in order to complete the Holy Grail War. Very well, you may call me Berserker.”

Chiaki nodded and took a drink of juice.

_ That makes sense. I noticed he hadn’t been summoned with a weapon, so it left out most other choices. When you think about, it was a little obvious that he was- _

She spat out juice all over the servant in front her.

“Berserker!?”

* * *

Johnny Remia leaned on the windowsill as he looked outside. From the looks of it, Archer had organized a game of soccer with the children. He seemed pretty good with the kids, a fact that Remia hadn’t really expected.

He adjusted his cowboy hat as he turned back inside. He had been waiting here for some time now. The representative from the Mage’s Association ought to have been showing up soon, but he was getting impatient. Originally, he had Archer wait with him, but the servant had been getting restless, so Remia let him go outside.

Funny… an Archer that didn’t like sitting still. Hopefully that wouldn’t be a problem when the war kicked in. 

He slumped back into a chair and noted that the tea he had made had gone cold. He reached for the pot and stood up, moving to the stove where he returned it to the heat. His eyes momentarily fell upon his Command Seal. It looked like a discus with a strange symbol directly above it, like an eye with eyelashes, or apple pie with heat coming off it.

He smirked to himself. Apple pie. How stereotypically American of him.

He heard the door open behind him, and turned to see an old nun guiding a woman in. She looked young and pretty, but her eyes showed greater experience. Remia was temporarily curious what her true age was… but knew better than to ask.

Behind the woman, a fair-faced man with wild light purple hair and red eyes walked in, wearing a suit. Remia addressed the woman.

“Ms. Tohsaka, glad you could join us. Would you like tea? I just put a new pot on.”

“Yes, thank you. Lancer?” she asked, turning her head to the man in the suit.

Lancer shook his head.

“I apologize for taking so long. Lancer and I had to take care of a few things,” she continued, moving to the table and sitting in one of the chairs, crossing her legs. Remia turned and leaned on the counter behind him, folding his arms.

“I wasn’t waiting long,” Remia lied, “but I am glad we can continue our business. Did you successfully summon the servant you were after?”

“You mean the servant the  _ Mage’s Association _ was after. I would’ve preferred someone different.”

Remia’s eyes shot to Lancer, who had moved to the window, and appeared to be drawing something on it.

“He knows. Truthfully, he’s the better option compared to who I wanted, but still…” Tohsaka replied to Remia’s glance. Remia should’ve expected she’d be that observant...

“There is merit in fighting with friends and those you’re familiar with,” Lancer interrupted, moving away from the window and standing next to Tohsaka.

“There’s also merit in  _ not _ doing that. Sucks to have to look out for someone else. Much better if you can just cut ties and run if you’re in trouble. That’s how you survived the last war, ain’t it?” Remia continued.

“That’s a smart philosophy. But it hardly ever works out the way you think it will,” Tohsaka replied, her gaze never faltering for a second. This woman was every bit as scary as he remembered.

Remia scratched his stubbled chin. He nodded to the window. “Archer is outside right now. He’d’ve sensed Lancer’s arrival, so he’ll be here soon.”

“We saw. I don’t doubt your judgement, Mr. Remia, but I do have to wonder why you’ve selected such a strange servant.”

The pot began whistling. Remia turned and grabbed it, walking to the table and pouring the tea for her. “Simple strategy, Miss. He may be a tad more recent than any of these other servants - especially yours - but he’s powerful in his own right, and so few people have heard of him that they won’t be able to identify him easily and counteract him,” Remia explained, setting down the pot in the middle of the table.

“You would be better off with a servant too powerful to counter in the first place,” she replied, picking up her cup and taking a light sip from it. She quickly set the cup down again.

“See, that’s why I enjoy being paired up with the Mage’s Association’s top dog. Your servant is exactly the kind that seems unbeatable, and my servant is exactly the kind to be unknowable. Between the two of us, we’ve got this war in the bag,” Remia continued, sitting down and propping his feet up on the table.

“I wouldn’t be so sure. We don’t even have the slightest idea who the other servants are. What if one like the King of Heroes is summoned again?”

“I can take care of enemies like him,” Archer said from the window. Remia and Tohsaka both turned to look as Archer slid in. He had a large, bulky red cloak wrapped around him, so he looked like a mass of cloth underneath a head, which was darker skinned and topped with braided brown hair. On his cheek, a lightning bolt tattoo that crossed his eye.

“Archer, I presume?” Tohsaka asked.

“Nah, he’s just some creep who wears shower curtains and likes to play with children,” Remia interrupted.

Archer looked down at his cloak and then back up to Remia. “This is not a shower curtain, it is my home.”

Tohsaka seemed unfazed. Lancer, on the other hand, looked perplexed.

“And you are the other servant I will be fighting this war with?” Archer asked, looking at Lancer.

Lancer nodded and bowed. “Good to meet you, Archer. Might I suggest that you wear less… suspicious clothing? We don’t want to attract unnecessary attention.”

Archer shrugged. “I am comfortable like this.” After a moment, Archer remembered to bow to Lancer.

“Well, back to your question, Ms. Tohsaka… you really think even one of the most powerful servants out there could withstand the two of our servants working together? Lancer is damn close to bein’ a Divine Spirit all by himself,” Remia reasoned.

The door opened. The old nun returned, carrying a tray of food. “Don’t mind me, I was just making lunch for the children, and thought the two of you could use some, as well. If you want more, just ring for me,” the nun smiled at them, setting the tray on the table.

“Thank you kindly, Sister Gretelle. Just how long can we stay here, anyway?” Remia asked, picking up a biscuit and taking a bite.

“As long as the two of you want! Of course, I won’t tolerate any kind of fighting here, I hope you understand that,” Gretelle explained, tapping on Remia’s feet.

“Of course, Sister. We appreciate you taking the time to be the Overseer of this war. Shouldn’t be more than two weeks,” Remia explained as he removed his feet from the table. He caught Tohsaka’s eye.

“One week. Shouldn’t be more than one week,” Remia corrected.

“Oh, I really don’t mind. Just remember - no fighting here. Have fun, you two,” Gretelle called warmly, as she turned to leave. Just before she left she stopped herself and turned to Archer and Lancer. “Pardon me. Have fun, you  _ four _ .”

As soon as the door closed, Remia put his feet back up on the table. “Seems like a nice lady. I don’t think she’s got what it takes to be an Overseer, but hey, I don’t make the rules.”

Tohsaka took a thoughtful sip. “We’re agreed upon the wish we make, then?”

Remia arched an eyebrow. “Why wouldn’t we be? We’ve only been planning this shindig for five years.”

“Conviction can change in that time,” Tohsaka replied, “I just want to make sure we’re absolutely clear.”

“Ms. Tohsaka, I was the one who came to the Mage’s Association in the first place. Ain’t nobody out there who wants to see Magic return to where it was before the 70s more than I do.”

Tohsaka nodded. “Excellent. Then if I were to ask you to kill your servant and get a better one…?”

Remia could feel Archer bristle. He noticed Lancer’s hand readied itself. Tohsaka kept her gaze focused on Remia, and Remia could feel his will begin to falter under it, but he kept his voice steady as he smiled at her. “I’d ask you to reconsider.”

There was a moment in that room that could’ve exploded. As it passed, the sound of children laughing outside floated into the room.

“Just a hypothetical situation, that’s all. I think you’re servant will do just fine,” Tohsaka eventually said.

“That’s an awfully scary hypothetical. I ain’t saying I wouldn’t consider your proposition. ‘Course, I’d expect you to supply a good reason for having to do that. After all, it’d waste a Command Seal,” Remia replied, standing up and moving towards Archer, thankful that the movement broke his gaze with Tohsaka.

He placed a hand on Archer’s cloaked shoulder. “But you ain’t seen what this Archer can do. Just watch, you’ll eat your silly words about forced suicide.” Remia turned to Tohsaka, still faced away from him. “Hypothetically speakin’, of course.”

Lancer placed his hands in his pockets. Tohsaka nodded. “I see. Very well then.”

She stood up and turned for the door. “You shouldn’t be so tense. Lancer and I will find a suitable base of operations for us. Until then, stay here.”

Lancer bowed to Remia and Archer as he followed Tohsaka out. Remia tipped his hat. Archer didn’t move.

“I do not like her,” Archer said.

“Tell me about it. She was enough of a boogeyman when I met her five years ago. She’s just gotten worse since her sister left.”

Archer was silent for a second. “Has she uncovered it?”

Remia moved back to the table and picked up another biscuit. “Our connection? Maybe not what it is  _ exactly _ , but she knows there’s something.”

“She is powerful in mind, body, and magic. And yet her heart seems to hold nothing.”

“Yup. Sakura Tohsaka is one woman you  _ definitely _ don’t want to cross.”

* * *

Travick Dormir was at the end of the hallway, looking through rooms. Why had the servant run off like that? He seemed like he was possessed, or something. He was certainly odd, that much was clear.

Trussa ran down the hallway. “Is he there?” she called out to her butler.

Travick looked at her. “I’m afraid not, mistress. Perhaps he’s gone outside?”

“Oh, I hope not.”

As soon as Travick and she met at the center of the hallway, they heard a noise outside. Of course.

They ran into one of the rooms and opened the door to the balcony. Light poured from the doorway into the darkening sky. They looked down at the street below. He was standing in the middle of the street, laughing like a madman.

“Cry in despair, mortals! Your dark lord and master has returned!”

A car passed by him, and a drunk passenger threw a beer can at him and screamed something at him in German. The mad servant yelped and took a step back from the can, but after a moment, reached down and picked it up, studying it. He then smiled.

“Aha! A tribute already! I see this world has not forgotten me in my absence.”

Trussa leaned over the railing and looked down at him.

“What are you doing down there?”

Saber looked up and saw her. A wild grin suddenly splashed across his face. He bent down and leaped, sailing through the air and landing on top of the balcony railing, next to Trussa. Trussa stepped back and looked up at him.

He was dark skinned, but wore a black bodysuit with a golden set of gauntlets, boots, a belt, and an armored cowl - which only went so far as to protect his upper chest and neck. His head, and therefore hair, were left uncovered, which allowed it’s spiky nature to curve down to the middle of his back. A cape, attached to the cowl, blew about in the wind.

“Saber, what on Earth is wrong with you? We have to keep quiet!” Travick growled, pointing a finger at him.

Saber’s stupid grin grew wider, revealing large canines. “Quiet? The shockwaves of all the Mana you must’ve used to summon me would’ve let the entire world know I’ve returned.”

“That doesn’t mean you can go-”

Saber held up a finger. “Hold that thought.” He lept backwards, back into the street. A moment later, he returned with the beer can. “You may continue now.”

“We can’t let others know our location, otherwise they can attack us whenever they feel like it!”

Saber responded by taking a large bite out of the can, spewing excess beer over himself and the railing. Travick reached forward and pulled Trussa back, preventing any of it from getting on her dress. After a few moments, Saber stopped chewing. “This was a mistake...”

“Saber! Are you even listening!?” Travick shouted. Saber stepped off the railing and onto the balcony.

“Nope. You, mustachioed servant. How am I supposed to enjoy this tribute?” Saber responded, pointing to Travick.

Travick glanced at Trussa. Trussa just smiled. “Travick, go and show him around.”

Travick, after a sigh, motioned for Saber to follow him, and left back through the room and down the hallway as Trussa closed the doors. She moved the opposite direction, towards her room.

“If it is possible, I would like you to act less… rashly than you have been. It would remove a great deal of stress from the young mistress’ mind.”

Saber took another bite. “Meh. You summoned me for this war. Did you expect the most powerful demon in history to be polite?”

Travick continued, making a mental note to return here and clean up his beer later. “Yes, about that… are you certain you are who you say you are? While Tr-... pardon me, Ms. Loyuffon is your Master and has the Command Seals, I am taking care of your Mana consumption in place of the young mistress. Frankly, your Mana upkeep is quite low, certainly not at the level we thought it would be at.”

Travick turned and realized Saber was no longer following him. “Oh, bollocks.”

Travick closed his eyes. Several of his familiars woke up throughout the house. One by one, he went through their vision until he came to see that the newly summoned servant was looking through the armory. Why was he there?

Travick moved efficiently through the house, making no wasted movements. He arrived at the front of the armory to see the door had already been pushed open. He took a step inside. Saber was rummaging through the swords.

“Ahem… Saber, might I ask why you’re looking through our selection of swords?” he asked, adjusting his monocle.

“I need a weapon, don’t I?” Saber explained quickly, tossing a spear behind him. Travick reached out and snatched the weapon before it clattered against the wall.

“But, pardon my impertinence, you’re Saber. Of the Saber-class, I mean. Weren’t you summoned with a sword?”

Saber shook his head. “Your ‘young mistress’ probably screwed up the summoning ritual. I don’t have a sword, nor a Noble Phantasm,” Saber continued, holding up a sword, almost as if he could test the blade just by looking at it. He tossed the sword behind him. Travick put the spear in the crook of his arm and grabbed the sword from the air.

“Again, forgive my impertinence, but that is impossible. I watched over the young mistress. She did everything correctly.”

Saber tossed a priceless blade behind him, causing Travick to crook the previous sword and jump to catch the new blade. “I  _ will _ have a sword. Soon, anyway. But no, I didn’t have a sword with me. But maybe that’s the way the Grail wanted it. I was too powerful to begin with, so to ensure I didn’t just  _ win _ immediately, it handicapped me. Yes, that must be it.”

Travick decided it was best for him to place his armful of weapons to the side, lest Saber toss another expensive weapon at him . “That is quite the theory. However, the Grail has thus far shown no qualms with unbalanced sides in the previous wars, why would the case be different this time around?”

Saber kept looking through weapons, mostly just throwing them aside, as opposed to throwing them at Travick. The butler sighed as he saw investment after investment thrown away. After a moment, Travick spoke again. “Might I ask what your Noble Phantasm would’ve been to warrant such a theory?”

Saber shrugged. “I don’t remember.”

“Oh dear… what on Earth have we gotten ourselves into?” Travick lamented, shaking his head sadly.

Saber pulled up a sword that had a golden hilt - similar to his armor - and a black blade with red symbols along the flat of the blade. It was a ceremonial sword, unfit for combat.

“Ah… this must be your finest sword. I shall use this in battle.”

“That is a ceremonial blade, it is worthless in combat.”

“How do you know it’s worthless? Perhaps the universe has sent it here as an act of providence, awaiting the only one who could truly wield it.”

“Such divine mysteries aren’t possible in our world anymore. Things are different from your time.”

Saber turned to Travick. “Maybe so. But even so, I will wield this blade with my demonic power, so-”

Saber swung it once, slicing it against the wall. The blade immediately broke. Travick crossed his arms and looked at Saber.

“Ah. Yes. Well. My demonic power appeared to be too much for even that masterpiece of a blade to survive. Anyhow, have it repaired and strengthened,” Saber replied, picking up the pieces and handing them to Travick.

“There are dozens of other blades you could choose from, each one more finely made than that one.”

“But it doesn’t go well with my overall appearance. How am I supposed to look intimidating if my weapon looks stupid?” Saber explained, moving past Travick and into the hallway.

“What on Earth does intimidation have to do with anything?”

“Tell Loyuffon she can find me in the main hall when she is ready to begin,” Saber ignored Travick.

Travick felt a headache arising.

* * *

Izolda closed her eyes and listened to the water slap against the side of the yacht. As the boat bobbed up and down in the water, she opened her eyes again and looked at the city before her.

“Ms. Izolda? We’ve retrieved the resources you needed. Are you ready to begin?” one of the assistants asked.

Izolda just nodded. After a moment, she reached out her gloved hand and motioned for the assistant to join her at the edge of the yacht. He did so. The assistant that had been standing with him, a woman, remained where she was.

“Look down into the dark waters. What do you see?” Izolda instructed.

The man leaned over and squinted. “I apologize, Ms. Izolda… maybe it’s because the sun has set and the moon hasn’t risen yet, but… I don’t see anything.”

“Not even a reflection?”

The man squinted harder. “No… the lights not good enough. I can’t even see a shadow.”

“To not be able to see a shadow in the dark… that kind of incompetence is truly another level altogether.”

The man stood up straight and turned to her. “I apologize, Ms. Izolda. I’m no owl, I can’t see in the dark.”

Izolda peered at him from the corner of her eye. “Why did you stop looking at the dark water? You’re liable to miss your death.”

The man had no time to respond before Rider exploded out of the surface of the water, laughing as his hand snatched the side of the man’s face and pulled him into the water below. The commotion unfortunately began rocking the boat slightly more than she was comfortable with… but she wouldn’t mind for the time being.

The other assistant finally spoke after a moment of shock. “That was… was that a servant? I thought you hadn’t summoned him yet?”

Izolda reached up and moved her hair out of the way, revealing her Command Seal on the back of her neck.

“I apologize for the deception. It’s so much more difficult to garner sacrifices when they have somewhere to run to,” Izolda explained.

The assistant reached into her side and pulled out a pistol. “You bitch…”

Rider was suddenly beside the assistant, his hand grabbing her arm. He twisted it, snapping it unnaturally, afterwards turning and beginning to pull her towards the water. “No! No, no no! Ple-” she was thrown in the water. Frothy bubbles arose from where she entered. A few moments later, they stopped.

Rider leaned on the railing next to his Master. “She’s right, y’know. Ye most certainly are a deceptive witch.”

“Are you any better?”

Rider let out a laugh. “No. Never claimed ta be, either. But I was always destined fer Hell. You still had a fightin’ chance.”

“I’ve killed far more than one boat of people. I’ve made a living off of killing others, that’s why I was hired by the Harweys in the first place. There are still other sacrifices on the boat, you know.”

“I know, I was jus’ wonderin’ how many would try ta swim away first… I love it when they do that…”

“I’m going inside for a drink.”

“Get me one, too.”

Izolda stopped. She turned to Rider. “You don’t have a throat.”

Rider turned, still leaning on the edge of the boat. “I’ve learned ta deal with it.”

Deciding not to delve further into his strange logic, she turned and went into the yacht. Inside, there was still a person, who most definitely had seen what had happened, probably too scared to do anything but stand. Izolda ignored them and went for the bottle of alcohol.

After pouring two of them, she returned outside. “There’s one in the cabin, too scared to move.”

“Oh ho ho… they’ll move after a single good look at me…” Rider sneered, snatching his drink and pouring it past his teeth as he moved by her.

Izolda sighed and turned, taking a sip as Rider entered the lit cabin. Through the window, she could see the person’s eyes widen as the living skeleton wearing a long coat and ratty pants and boots came walking into the room. The horns that came from the skull’s forehead curved upwards and nearly scraped the roof of the room, and blue smoke came snorting out the skeleton’s nose, eyes, and mouth.

She heard the person’s scream as Rider grabbed her with his bony hands and dragged her towards the edge of the boat. More pleading, like the other assistant as she was thrown overboard.

Izolda took another drink.

Rider returned to Izolda, casting his appearance into the darkness once again. “Well, 26 ain’t a bad start, now is it?”

Izolda shrugged. “We need more.”

“‘Course we need more. But it’ll be easy ta get more. Yer human lives er so short and easy ta clip away at. Better yet, none of ye hardly react when more of ye start disappearin’. We’ll have enough in three days time.”

Izolda nodded. “Good. Get to work.”

Rider laughed and dived over the edge of the boat, disappearing into the dark waters below.

* * *

The Master of Caster looked out over the city from the giant window in his penthouse, his arms folded behind his back. Caster appeared behind him.

“You live quite lushly for someone who has no means of gaining currency.”

The Master of Caster kept his eyes out towards the city. “I have my ways. Gaining money and support has never been an issue for me.”

Caster moved to her master’s side. “You haven’t reconsidered telling me your name?”

“What difference would that make?”

Caster shrugged and inched a bit closer. “I might like you better.”

The Master of Caster glanced at her and moved away, back into the penthouse. “I have better things to do than to give in to basic animal desires.”

Caster sighed. “You’re not very fun.”

“I’m taking necessary precautions to ensure my own survival, that makes me not fun?” the Master of Caster replied, moving to a chair and sitting in it, looking up at a work of art on the wall. Caster walked over next to him.

“When all you do is stare at art all day, I would say so. Say… has anyone ever requested to use your bald head as a canvas?”

The Master of Caster ignored her, keeping his eyes on the painting in front of him.

Caster leaned down, moving one of her arms around his shoulders, the other arm touching his forearm. “You know… some consider the female body a work of art.”

The Master of Caster pulled his arm away. “I prefer my art to be painted.”

Caster leaned in and whispered into his ear, “I’ll pose.”

“You’re wasting your time, Caster. I won’t fall for your tricks. I am resolute in winning this Holy Grail War,” the Master of Caster continued, standing up from his chair and moving away from Caster.

Caster gave another sigh, letting herself fall into the vacant space he had left in the chair. “So am I, I just hate how your strategy is to stay hidden. I don’t mind letting the rabble sort themselves out and only having to fight one or two enemies… but that’s a lot of waiting with nothing to do.”

“There is plenty to do, so long as you appreciate the finer things in life and don’t dedicate your entire being to sex and hatred.”

“There is nothing finer in life than sex and hatred.”

The Master of Caster looked over at her. “I should’ve known you’d say something like that.”

“Oh? Have you uncovered my identity so easily?”

“I purposefully summoned you. Your abilities are nothing to be ashamed of.”

“Oh please. I would do so much better in this war if I weren’t a Caster,” she responded, stretching out.

“Nonsense. I work best with Casters,” the Master of Caster explained, moving to the counter to pour himself a drink.

“Oh? A veteran, then? Don’t tell me you were in the previous Holy Grail War?”

The Master of Caster didn’t respond.

Caster let out a laugh. “Not responding is as good as confirming it. Well, at least my Master is someone who knows what they’re doing… a girl can appreciate that.”

The Master of Caster moved to the fireplace with a glass of water. He knelt down, staring into the flames. “And how do you know that? I might be a coward, who ran away and let his servant take the fall.”

“Yes… you  _ could. _ But you’re not. I don’t like to give myself compliments but… actually, I love doing that. Any man who can resist me has quite substantial willpower. You’re not the type to just run away because you’re afraid or because it's easier. Besides, I’m not meant for direct combat. If you run, I’ll run with you.”

The Master of Caster took a long drink but didn’t look away from the fire. “We will win. I promise.”

“And in the meantime?”

The Master of Caster turned and threw out his hand. A pistol suddenly appeared in it, and he fired.

“We stay alert. You never know who is watching,” the Master of Caster replied, watching as the familiar outside the window fell, disappearing.

Caster ran a few fingers through her hair. She stood up from the chair.

Truthfully, the Master of Caster had no idea if she was as beautiful as she said due to her wearing a mask molded to look like a face. Her hair was black and her skin was pale. She wore white robes that complimented her figure, and allowed for easy viewing of her cleavage and legs. She sometimes held a wooden staff that looked as though it had a snake coiling around it. “You have a good eye.”

“No, I just know what a smart person would do. We are in a tall tower, the best view of the city is from up here. Many familiars will be coming here, and they’ll find us instead.”

“Not a very good hiding place.”

“Well… that’s why we have your Noble Phantasm, isn’t it?”

Caster looked at him and cocked her head to the side. The Master of Caster couldn’t tell, but he was fairly certain she was smiling.

* * *

Assassin stepped into the belltower. The church had been abandoned a long time ago, making it the perfect location for his Master to be stowed away in.

“I’ve done a lot of preliminary scouting. I already have identified at least two servant’s True Names, Lancer and Berserker. I’m sure I know Caster, but I want to confirm first. Saber, Archer, and Rider, on the other hand, will have to require a bit more research on my part. I’ll find a Library and steal a few books,” Assassin spoke out loud. He knew his Master wouldn’t respond to him. He was more speaking for his own benefit than anyone else’s.

Assassin sat down on the edge of the belltower, keeping one leg inside it and the other leg loose, hanging over the edge to the city.

“Funny how easy Servants let their True Names be revealed without even saying a word. Naive. Their Masters are even more so, thinking hiding behind the servant’s Class Name will make them more difficult to uncover. That in and of itself is not such a bad thing, but the overconfidence it gives them is where the fault lies. Always letting go certain details of their servants past unintentionally… so very naive.”

Assassin’s Master fidgeted a little with her hands. Assassin paid the action no mind.

“All Masters are naive. Especially the ones that use relics to summon their servant. They think that the servant will be exactly like their legend. And then they find out the horrible truth about their hero.”

Assassin swung his leg back into the belltower and moved towards his Master. “You think that just because the legend of Robin Hood is one that paints him in the light of a hero that he suddenly wouldn’t harm innocents? That he was a kind and lovable rogue who gave to the poor?”

Assassin knelt down in front of his Master, not minding the blood getting on his pants. “I was nothing of the sort. I was a criminal, plain and simple. The legends distorted that - justified my actions anyway they could to soften the blow of that dreadful era. But you idiots in this era love their heroes to the point that they couldn’t bother to do any research into the real Robin Hood, could you? And look where it got you.”

Assassin’s Master closed her eyes tightly. “You think I’m gonna kill you? I wouldn’t have a Mana source if I did that. No, I need you to live and give me all that precious Mana you have. But I can’t have a naive fool getting offended over my actions and killing me with a Command Seal, either.”

Assassin reached down and his Master braced herself as he forced her mouth open. Assassin used the moonlight to look in. “Wound is healing fine. That’s good. Unfortunate Command Seals can only be activated vocally, huh? I’ll be sure to bring you food and to keep you healthy, don’t worry about that. Of course, you  _ will _ eat the food I bring and you  _ won’t _ prevent the Mana flow between us, right? If you did something stupid like that… I’d have to take Mana by force, and believe me, I don't want to have to do something as despicable as that anymore than you do. Got me?”

Tears began to spill from her eyes as Assassin let her face go. She laid there for a second. Assassin’s gloved fist came down right next to her head, cracking the stone beneath it.

“ _ DO YOU UNDERSTAND _ ?”

Assassin’s Master began nodding in a panic. Assassin got up again, and he moved to the side of the belltower.

“There’s still a lot to do tonight… don’t run away. I’ll always find you.”

Assassin jumped, slowly becoming darker and darker as he vanished into the shadows.

* * *

Uhlan read the paper in front of him while he reclined back at his desk. The servant girl came in and sheepishly asked if he would like anything, and he responded with a request for tea. She returned some minutes later holding a platter with a tea kettle and a cup on it, and shakily placed it on the table in front of him. He thanked her and gave her a smile, which made her grow red and bow to try and hide her face. She turned and went to leave the room, but Uhlan stopped her and asked her what her name was, and after being answered, he asked if she’d like to accompany him to dinner tonight, to which she responded with a few murmurs and a nod.

“You mustn’t lose focus,” the Eighth Servant spoke from the corner. The servant girl screamed and ran from the room.

Uhlan gave his servant a look. “You don’t have to comment on everything.”

“I hardly do. You starting a romance is not what you ought to be concentrated on.”

Uhlan laughed. “I wasn’t starting a romance, I just asked her to dinner.”

The Eighth Servant nodded and crossed his arms. “I think you are lying. If you aren’t, I shall be equally disappointed.”

Uhlan had to admit that the way that Servant spoke… it had an effect on people. Uhlan had often been popular with women, but that Servant hardly had to utter a word and people would either flee in terror or bow down in respect. He just had that kind of voice.

Uhlan envied him.

“Didn’t you say you were going on a pilgrimage?” Uhlan asked, returning his eyes to the report.

“Yes, but I shall not leave, lest I know you’re safe.”

“I’ll be fine. We’ve run into a bit of luck, actually. As it turns out, there are eight servants summoned for this war, and one of them is masquerading as you.”

“Me?”

“Not you as in  _ you _ . But they’re Master is convinced that the Servant takes up the class spot reserved for you. In other words,  _ they _ are the true eighth servant. An aberration. You are the real deal, there’s no doubt about that.”

“I had no doubt. This new servant… are they strong?”

“Compared to you, of course not. You are a candidate to be a Grand Servant. Even if they were very strong, compared to you, they would be nothing. More importantly, now that everyone thinks they’re the correct servant of this war, they won’t even have a need to suspect you exist, and therefore won’t have a reason to try and find me. When we reveal ourselves, it will take them all by surprise.”

The Eighth Servant nodded and moved closer to Uhlan’s desk, his full set of silver armor clanking as it moved. “I must apologize for my absence.”

Uhlan waved his hand through the air. “I understand your need. Go, find what you need to find in this era. If anything, it will give me time to analyze our enemies.”

“You will summon me if innocent blood is spilt? The survival of humankind takes precedence.”

Uhlan nodded. “Yes, of course I will.”

The Eighth Servant bowed and disappeared into his spirit form.

Uhlan let out a sigh.  _ Good. With him gone, I don’t have to be so careful about what I monitor. My work is too important to let him recklessly attack those that harm innocents. This is a Holy Grail War taking place at the crossroads of human history, and a servant as powerful as him could very well decide it by himself, _ Uhlan thought to himself.

But he needed his own will to be imprinted on the outcome of this war. In a way, all those taking part needed that as well.

Uhlan peered out at the moon beginning to duck behind the buildings of the city. This was the Final Holy Grail War. The end had come.


	2. Battle in the Sun

Berserker walked out of the clothing store, wearing shorts, a hawaiian shirt, sandals, and sunglasses.

He stretched. “Ah! Perfect. This clothing will do just fine. Much better than what you had me in,” Berserker narrated, turning his head towards Chiaki, who exited soon after him.

“Were you expecting me to pay for all that?”

Berserker laughed. “Of course not. I’ve made an arrangement with that lady back there,” he nodded. Chiaki turned and saw an elderly woman blushing and waving at him. Berserker waved back before putting his hands in his pockets and walking down the street. Chiaki jogged after him.

“Didn’t you say you were gonna follow  _ me _ around for today?”

“Yeah, but you were taking way too long to get to the good stuff. I want you to show me all the highlights of this era, not be holed up in your cave forever.”

“It’s an apartment.”

“Thats cold and wet and barely has any human contact taking place within it. It’s a cave. I’m honestly surprised that you don’t have any monsters roaming around in the basement.”

Chiaki gave an exasperated sigh. Why did she have to put up with this idiot? His parameters were certainly impressive… but his personality easily made up for any advantage they gave.

_ Easy, Chiaki. You haven’t actually seen him in combat yet, he might be incredible _ .

“You still haven’t explained that whole ‘being sane’ thing yet. The Berserker-class is reserved for, well… y’know,  _ Berserkers _ . You really shouldn’t be wanting to wear clothes in the first place.”

Berserker didn’t look like he had been listening. “Alright, where do we begin? I’m relying on you here, seeing as this era seems so boring.”

A woman in short shorts and a tank top walked by.

“Save for the incredible visuals. This might not be so bad,” Berserker grinned, beginning to walk after her.

Chiaki reached out and grabbed his wrist. “No. No more getting sidetracked.”

Berserker kept walking, pulling Chiaki along, unfazed by her complaints.

“Stop it, or I will tell that lady you’re a pedophile!”

Berserker stopped. He lifted his arm up, and Chiaki barely held on as he lifted her off the ground and brought her face to his eye-level. Chiaki did her best not to feel intimidated by him as he gave her a hard stare with a furrowed brow.

“What is so important to you, that we win this war?” Berserker asked.

Chiaki kept staring back, but she could tell he was beginning to study her again. Not in the pervy way, but what he did when he uncovered her Lightning Cestus ability. Chiaki cleared her throat.

“Does it matter? You don’t seem to have a wish, you're just here to see the sights. No matter what wish I make, unless it's ‘I don’t want my servant to have fun’, it’s not gonna interrupt that.”

Berserker was quiet for a time. “True. But now you’ve got me curious.”

Chiaki realized she was still dangling off his arm. She let go and let herself drop to the ground, landing heavily and hurting her feet. She did her best to hide the pain in front of Berserker.

“How about this - you tell me why you can be a Berserker and still be sane, and in return I’ll tell you my wish for the Grail. Deal?”

Berserker put a hand on his hip and looked down at her. It was strange. He wasn’t studying her anymore, he just seemed… disappointed somehow.

Berserker shrugged. “I guess…” he turned and looked around, probably for the short shorts woman.

Chiaki waited for a few moments. Berserker wasn’t continuing. “Well?”

“You said if I told you why I’m sane, you’d tell me your wish. I haven't told you why I’m sane yet, so you have no reason to be speaking right now,” Berserker growled. Chiaki was taken back. He had suddenly become so different. Had she said something to offend him?

Chiaki folded her arms. “Alright, buddy, you listen to me. I’ve been dealing with your crap for a day now and all you’ve done is perv out on me and tell me absolutely nothing. You act as if you want respect? Give me a reason. Tell me why you’re sane, and don’t do it for anything in return - just do as I say!”

Berserker turned to her suddenly, a pitiless look in his eyes. “Or what?”

Chiaki took a step back, and almost found herself falling into the street. She gulped down the extra saliva in her mouth. She had to stay calm.

_ This is bad. How could I have been so stupid? I was doing fine with negotiating, and I had to go muck it up because I was angry. _

She took a deep breath. “Okay, maybe I was a little rude there, but you’re not exactly helping things along. You’re completely unconcerned with our victory, and you should be. I’m not saying your abilities aren’t enough on their own, but we don’t even know who all our opponents are yet. I just want to be prepared for anything.”

That look in his eye was gone, thankfully. He just had a hand on his chin and the other on his hip, pondering. He suddenly nodded, almost to himself. “I apologize. I misunderstood your intentions. I thought you believed you had the right to control me just because you had that symbol on your hand. I’m glad to see I was wrong.”

Chiaki looked down at the Command Seals. Truthfully, she had completely forgotten about them. In hindsight, wouldn’t it have been easier just to use one to force him to tell her everything? But then… he would’ve never trusted her again.

“I’ll comply with your wishes. But unfortunately, we’ll have to wait until we get back to the cave.”

Chiaki sighed. “Would you forget about the lady already?”

Berserker didn’t respond.

Chiaki furrowed her brow and looked back up at him. He wasn’t smiling anymore. His eyes were up, even further above street level.

“Now then… which one are you, I wonder?” he said aloud. Chiaki went cold. She turned, and saw a silhouette disappear over the edge of a building, onto it’s rooftop.

_ A servant? Already? I thought I’d have a little more time before we got into a fight… but it’s day. As long as we stay here, they’d never engage us. _

Berserker wrapped an arm around her waist and hoisted her up, holding her under his arm.

“Wait, what are you-”

He jumped, and air rushed around them, swallowing the rest of Chiaki’s sentence. Chiaki felt a jolt as they landed on top of the building. She took a few seconds to push her hair, which had fallen in her eyes, away from her face to see where they were. She only saw the ground rushing up to meet her.

She let out a cry as she slammed into the ground. She picked herself up again and dusted herself off. “Why the hell did you drop me!?” Chiaki shouted, turning to Berserker.

Berserker had returned to his original outfit, like Chiaki had first summoned him in. Berserker stepped past her, looking to the enemy servant at the other edge of the roof they were on. “Don’t tell me you’re going to run away now?”

The enemy servant looked wild, wearing a black bodysuit and golden armor. He looked rather nervous, actually.

“Run? No, I was just… uh… “

“Good then. We can knock one servant out of the running immediately,” Berserker smiled, cracking his knuckles.

The enemy servant suddenly straightened up and puffed out his chest. “I wouldn’t be so eager to fight me if I were you. I am the strongest class - Saber!”

Berserker smiled even wider. “Excellent! That means all other enemies will be far weaker than you, and we’ll have essentially won the war immediately!”

“That… doesn’t make sense,” Chiaki added in. Berserker, as per usual, ignored her.

Saber looked even more worried, and he had lost his composure. “Yes. Ah. Well, I’m sure you’d never want to fight around your own Master… what if something happens to her, eh?”

Berserker cracked his neck and took a few steps forward. “And why the hell would you do something stupid like that? Use underhanded tactics if you must, but I’ll see through it easily.”

Saber took several steps back. He started wringing his wrists. “Then I suppose that would mean we have to fight.”

“Of course.”

“Well… good. I was itching for a fight.”

“As was I. This means we’ll fight at our fullest, doesn’t it?”

“Uh, yes. Obviously. Now we’ll fight.”

Berserker seemed to crouch down a little and relax his shoulders, almost as if he was getting ready to catch something. Was that his battle pose?

“Getting ready to fight. I am. And you are. So we can fight,” Saber continued. He looked like he was thinking, and he had begun tapping on his own gauntlet with his other hand.

“Well… here, uh, here we go.”

Berserker stood ready.

“Starting soon. Last chance to reveal your a coward, I guess.”

Berserker smirked, but said nothing.

Saber nodded. “Okay, you seem really intent on fighting… but unfortunately… I don’t… uh... have a weapon!”

Berserker looked a little surprised. “A Saber doesn’t have a weapon?”

“Well, normally I do, but it broke due to my phenomenal demonic power. It’s getting fixed, but I can’t fight at my fullest if I don’t have the blade.”

Berserker seemed to deflate a little, and he stood up straight. “Well, I don’t have a weapon either. Can’t you fight with your fists?”

“Normally, yes, I might. But… uh… the problem is… without my sword on my person, even if I’m not using it… I become much weaker. Yes, that’s it.”

Chiaki smiled. This guy was the worst liar Chiaki had ever seen. He was just some coward, most likely Assassin or Caster that just didn’t want to have to take on a big servant like Berserker.

“Right. Well, then, Berserker, this won’t really be a test of your abilities… but it’s a fight all the same, right?” Chiaki added in.

Berserker looked over his shoulder at her. He was thinking, but only for a moment. He turned back to Saber. “Yes, I suppose she’s right. Disappointing I won't be able to fight you at your strongest. Perhaps we’ll meet again, in some different war that’ll allow us to show our true abilities to one another,” Berserker lamented.

“But but but… wait, why don’t we have our Masters fight instead in order to determine the victor?”

Berserker charged forward, fist raised, ready for an attack. Saber looked around, extremely quickly. Berserker was right in front of him now, throwing his blow right at Saber’s head. Saber, much to Chiaki’s surprise, was suddenly engulfed in flame-like shadows and shot to the side, far faster than Chiaki could comprehend. Berserker looked equally surprised.

The blackness receded on Saber’s head for a moment. His face was still worried, but he looked as though he had found something. “Your weak spot is wide open!” Saber called out. Berserker turned to face him in time for the darkness to return over Saber. He shot out, sliding in between Berserker’s legs. Suddenly, an armored gauntlet shot out of the black mass, slamming directly between Berserker’s legs, into his genitals, presumably. Saber skidded along the ground, but flipped, landing on his feet a few meters behind Berserker.

B erserker crumpled to his knees. He seemed out of breathe. “What? What kind of move was that!? Don’t take cheap shots!” Chiaki shouted at Saber.

Berserker held out a hand to Chiaki. “It’s okay… Master… I told him… he could use… underhanded tactics… should’ve seen… it coming…”

Chiaki started running toward Berserker, preparing a healing spell. Berserker stood up before she got even halfway and suddenly leapt at her, tackling her to the ground. The air was taken out of her, but she saw, over Berserker’s shoulder, that a man in a suit had rushed in with a spear, slicing out across Berserker’s back.

_ No… I should’ve been standing there. Berserker got me out of the way _ , Chiaki realized. Berserker rolled, keeping Chiaki close to him before he stood, skidding to a stop. He let go of Chiaki, but moved to stand in front of her immediately.

“You’d interrupt our battle? I had given the weakling the permission to act cowardly, not someone like you.”

“That must be Saber’s Master,” Chiaki reasoned.

Berserker grimaced. “There’s no way a master could be that fast.”

The man in the suit twirled his spear and turned, getting into a defensive stance. He had light purple hair and red eyes. Berserker was right… there was something off about him.

Chiaki came to a realization. Her Master’s eye was working on him. He was a servant.

Lancer squinted at Berserker. “So then… you must be Berserker.”

* * *

Berserker felt the sting as blood began to spill out of the wound on his back. It wasn’t deep, but it still hurt. That spear was dangerous.

The spear he held was about 3 meters from tip to tip, and was double pronged. The blades took up about 20% of the spear’s total length, the rest was a strange dark blue and black metal haft.

“H-h-h-how dare you interrupt our f-f-f-fight!” Saber called at Lancer. Lancer turned his head slightly towards Saber, and Saber collapsed, holding his arms out in defense. “Not that I didn’t appreciate you showing up you’re honestly a really nice guy I’d never say an act of kindness like that should go unnoticed and I think your the type of man to let me go so I-”

“Stop talking,” the new opponent ordered. Saber immediately stopped talking.

He returned his attention to Berserker. “Berserker. I believe that the two of us are the only true combatants of this war. As such, I think it prudent to eliminate you first.”

Berserker kept a poker face. “Well, if you know my class, you must be rather clever. Doesn’t take a genius to realize that you’re Lancer.”

_ He hasn’t changed into his armor yet. Lancer’s are supposed to be fast on their feet, perhaps it would slow him down? Or more likely… it reveals his identity. But what kind of Hero can be identified based off their armor, and not their weapon? _ Berserker thought.

Lancer made a noise, but it was unintelligible. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m not particularly clever, I simply overheard you speaking earlier down on the street.”

“Impossible, I would’ve sensed your presence.”

Lancer gave a barely noticeable shrug. “Perhaps you’re just not as observant as you thought.”

Berserker took a step forward. Lancer, in response, bolted forward and stopped several meters in front of Berserker. Lancer shot his spear out, aimed directly at Berserker. Berserker, with the back of his foot, moved and nudged Chiaki, causing her to fall. At the same time, he suddenly went low, letting the tip of the spear stab into his shoulder as he pushed forward, toward Lancer.

Berserker pushed the pain away as he reached his hands out and grabbed the back of Lancer’s legs pulling them closer to himself, and at the same time, throwing his good shoulder into Lancer. Lancer was sent to the ground, still holding his spear. He caused the rooftop around them to crack and tear as he bounced along it backwards.

Berserker pushed his advantage. He rushed forward in a flash, but Lancer was faster. He was on his feet as well, and he was launching another attack at Berserker.

The spear was sharp, and could cut through him easily, but Berserker had little choice. Lancer hadn’t even begun to show everything he was capable of, and Berserker needed to eliminate him before he got the chance.

Berserker planted his right foot onto the ground, and threw his left foot into a kick that intercepted the spear. Lancer had a look of complacency on his face. He was underestimating Berserker. That would be his downfall.

Berserker twisted his foot and brought it down, trapping the spear beneath his foot and causing it to lock into the roof. An instant later, Berserker pushed off his right foot and slammed a fist right into Lancer’s face, throwing him back.

The spear was still beneath his foot. Good. Lancer flipped, now spearless, and launched himself back at Berserker, trying to get at his spear. Berserker smiled. Berserker brought his hands up into the  _ pankration _ stance. He launched two punches at Lancer, rocking his head back with each punch as the enemy servant tried to reclaim his spear.

Lancer rolled and dodged to the side, coming at an angle. Berserker noticed that Lancer’s left foot was slightly too far out to make a convincing stance in close combat.

_ He’s trying to fake me. He’ll dodge to the right _ .

He dodged to the right, letting Berserker catch him with a hard left hook.

Lancer staggered and stood still, out of Berserker’s striking range. He was breathing heavily.

Berserker took the time to study him. His suit, which was made by humans, had been torn up by the mere impact of the blows Berserker had landed on him. That confirmed it wasn’t his true armor. Now that Berserker thought of it, Lancer seemed to be putting himself into situations that he might’ve been able to glance off blows and get his spear if he had been wearing armor. Clearly, fighting without it was throwing him off. Berserker had a larger advantage here than he first realized.

_ That doesn’t mean I should take things easy. He’s far faster. I wouldn’t be able to keep up with him if I let him move around the battlefield as he chooses. With the spear trapped, he has to come to me. If I lose that, I may have to resort to my Noble Phantasm to beat him… it’d be the only way. _

More importantly, Berserker now saw a large tattoo that sprawled over Lancer’s upper body, starting just below his neck and rolling over his shoulders onto his arms, as well as down his abdomen. If Berserker had to guess, it was a full-body tattoo.

Lancer suddenly shot off, heading directly towards Chiaki.

_ Dammit! _ Berserker cursed in his head. He had forgotten about her.

Berserker turned and tried to charge for Chiaki first, but he knew Lancer would get there first.

_ No…! _

A black shadow suddenly fell across Chiaki, and she was moved to the edge of the building. Berserker didn’t look, he just focused in on Lancer. Lancer looked up and saw him coming. Lancer suddenly threw out a kick, but Berserker jumped over it and threw his arms wide. Lancer’s foot landed and he swiveled on it, beginning to throw another kick out, perhaps thinking Berserker was essentially a sitting duck in the air.

Berserker had counted on that. He threw his hands into a clap, causing a large soundwave to radiate out, and forcing Lancer to flinch. Berserker landed and rolled, gaining momentum that he threw into a fist as he came up, slamming it into Lancer’s gut.

Lancer rolled with it, and went sailing back to the other edge of the building.

Berserker took the time to glance over at Chiaki. Saber stood just next to her, with a hand on her shoulder. She looked as though she had bruised her arm.

Berserker turned his attention back to Lancer, who appeared to be thinking. “I hadn’t realized I’d come here to fight both of you. I should’ve focused more on defeating each of you separately, not trying to take out the Master. I was foolish.”

Berserker stood up straight. “I have no intention of letting Saber join me in this battle. Let’s finish this, just the two of us.”

Lancer smirked. “I would normally be glad to. Unfortunately, the daylight makes this difficult. We’ll meet again, during the night. You should take better care of your Master,” Lancer decided. He dashed behind Berserker to his spear, retrieving it.

“No! Get back here, you bastard!” Berserker roared, jumping at him. He was gone long before Berserker got there.

“Dammit!” Berserker shouted, slamming his fist into the space where Lancer had been. A section of the roof gave way, collapsing in on a maintenance area beneath it. Remembering his Master, he turned, looking at Saber and Chiaki. Berserker walked over to them, and Chiaki ran to Berserker, standing nearby him.

Berserker still had his attention on Saber. “Why did you help?”

Saber looked surprised at the question. “Um… well, it just seemed so… er…” Saber was thinking about it.

He almost shrugged but stopped himself. He cleared his throat and puffed out his chest again. “This war would be too easy if you were eliminated so easily! I’ve deemed you as the only hero worthy of fighting me for the Final Grail.”

Chiaki cocked her head. “Final Grail?”

Saber looked at her, but kept his composure. “Yeah. The Final Holy Grail. That’s what we’re calling it.”

“Who’s we?”

“Uh… I dunno. I just called it that, and my masters started calling it that, it just sort of- you know what, it doesn’t matter.”

Berserker smiled. This servant was like a jester. He quite liked him.

“Out of respect for you saving my Master, and therefore me, I’ll let you go for now. But when you’ve reclaimed that sword of yours, we’ll meet again, and I’ll crush you at your full power!” Berserker laughed, closing a fist at Saber.

Saber laughed nervously, but not as fearfully as before. “Yeah… looking forward… to that.”

The shadows enveloped Saber, and he bounced from building to building, away from them and into the sunset.

* * *

Berserker grumbled to himself as Chiaki ordered him to sit on the stool in front of her. He had been relaxing on the couch since they got back, but Chiaki needed to heal his wounds, which meant she needed to be able to see them.

She had already healed the spear wound on his shoulder. The major one, the one across his back, was still being healed. Chiaki had fully expected Berserker to act all giddy at the thought of Chiaki having to heal the “other wound” Saber inflicted on him, but Chiaki was ready to let him stew in pain if it came to that.

But Berserker was oddly silent. He sat and didn’t say a word even after Chiaki had finished healing Lancer’s attacks.

Chiaki cleared her throat. “You were amazing out there. I couldn’t really keep up with your fight with Lancer, it just all happened too fast for me, but… what I did see, you really were incredible.”

Berserker didn’t look like he was listening.

“So are you gonna ignore  _ everything _ I say, even the good stuff?” Chiaki asked.

Berserker stood up and rolled his shoulders. “I failed.”

Chiaki shrugged and moved to a chair. “So what if you didn’t finish Lancer off? It seems like you and Saber are forming a bond… we could use that later in the war, though considering how weak Saber looked, I don’t-”

“I mean Lancer nearly killed you. He had been spying on us from long before we could detect him, which meant if we had just let Saber walk away, we’d never have seen Lancer coming, and Saber would’ve never been able to save you.”

Chiaki sat in silence for a moment. He had overestimated his own abilities. Chiaki knew what that felt like.

“Yeah, it kinda sucks. But you learn, don’t you? You’ve got a feel for how Lancer fights, right? Next time you meet up with him, he won’t stand a chance, I know it.”

Berserker just stood still, facing away from her. He spoke.

“Lancer will be stronger next time. I don’t know by how much… but he learns, too. He underestimated me, thought me to be unintelligent like most Berserkers. Next time, he won’t make the same mistake.”

Chiaki wasn’t sure how to respond. She knew he was right. Still… she hated letting him feel bad about it.

“So then you’ll just have to adapt beyond even that. You said you’d surpass anyone stronger than you, and defeat them, right? That's just how far ahead you are compared to everyone else. I mean, Lancer may be powerful, but… you’re Hercules. There’s no one stronger than-”

Berserker turned and looked at her with a confused look on his face. “Hercules? I’m not Hercules.”

Chiaki felt like she had been punched in the chest. The room was dead silent, and Chiaki realized she must’ve looked surprised, mostly because she most certainly was.

She stood up. “You  _ what _ !?”

“I’m Theseus, the hero who slayed the Minotaur and completed six labours. Why did you think I was Hercules?”

Chiaki walked up to him and tried to slap him. He just moved his head slightly back, letting her fist sail through the air. “You said you were the strongest Greek hero!”

“I am! Who thinks that Hercules is stronger than Theseus?”

“Everyone!”

Berserker looked like he was going to explode. “That can’t be! My greatest enemy has been turned into a hero in this era!? Something is  _ clearly _ wrong! Time travel! Massive illusion! Mind control!”

“Just shut up!” Chiaki bellowed. She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down. She looked at Berserker, and saw he was still agitated, but at least he wasn’t shouting.

“You just keep raising more and more questions, don’t you?” Chiaki sighed, folding her arms.

Berserker glanced at her. He closed his eyes and thought for a moment. “You’re right. And I should answer at least a few of them.”

Chiaki furrowed her brow at him. After a moment, her expression cleared. That’s right. There was something he was going to tell her…

Berserker sat down, and his left hand pointed to the golden string on his right arm.

“This is one of my Noble Phantasms, the Ariadne Thread. In life, when I went to defeat the Minotaur, he was inside a Labyrinth created by the master inventor known as Daedalus. The Labyrinth was magical in nature, and had an effect of warping the mind of those in it so that they could not escape, even if they found the exit. I was given this string to not only be able to find my way back, but ward off that mind-bending effect of the Labyrinth. I suppose if the string could prevent my mind deteriorating due to magic, it could prevent my mind from being warped by insanity,” Theseus explained.

Chiaki absorbed the information. “That’s incredible. But, that would mean that Mad Enhancement didn’t have an effect on you at all?”

Theseus nodded. “I’ve retained my intelligence, but I’ve received no benefits from that skill.”

Chiaki sat down again, slowly. “Well, at least that’s one mystery solved.”

Theseus looked at her. “Now then. Your end of the bargain?”

Chiaki had nearly forgot. She took a moment to compose herself. “I don’t suspect my reasoning is anything a hero like you could understand… or maybe you could, I don’t really know.”

Berserker didn’t respond, he just folded his arms and waited for her to continue.

After a moment, she gathered her nerves. Her wish was nothing that would interfere with his, she knew… but she was still worried what he’d think of her for having such a selfish goal.

“I’m doing this because my father was murdered. He used to work for a man named Kayneth El-Melloi Archibald.”

“I know of Archibald. He was important to this era, so he was a part of the information that filled my head when I was summoned,” Berserker filled in.

Chiaki nodded. “He was, politically speaking, the ruler of the world. He was a powerful Magus besides that… but that's not the point. My father worked for him, and at some point my father uncovered something he wasn’t supposed to. What it was, I don’t know, and I don’t really care. All I know is that he was then murdered by a man I trusted.”

Berserker nodded. “Your wish is to destroy that man.”

Chiaki let out a nervous laugh. “Yeah. That kinda wish.”

Berserker was still. After a moment, one of his hands went to his chin, his ‘thinking pose’.

“What was this man’s name?”

Chiaki waited a moment. She hated saying it. She hated thinking about him. She swallowed those feelings. “His name is Uhlan. It doesn’t really matter. I can’t forget his face. As long as I know who I’m talking about, I’m sure the Grail will as well.”

Berserker folded his arms again and continued to think. Chiaki stood up and left to go to the kitchen. She poured herself a glass of water, drinking it all in a single go. She didn’t like thinking about this kind of thing. When she returned to the living room, Berserker had moved back to the couch, and it looked like he had come to a decision.

“Tell me about him.”

Chiaki shook her head and scratched the surface of the cheap glassware in her hand. “I don’t want to talk about Uhlan.”

“I meant your father. What was he like?”

Chiaki raised an eyebrow at him. “What does it matter?”

“You want to win the war, don’t you? That means you can’t let anger cloud your mind. The love you and your father had will strengthen your resolve, and make your willpower unbreakable. Such are the bonds of family.”

Those weren’t words Chiaki expected the Berserker to be saying. Chiaki smiled and finished her drink. “You keep surprising me.”

“ _ I _ keep surprising me. I sounded pretty inspirational there, didn’t I? Don’t know where in Hades that all came from, honestly.”

Chiaki set her glass aside and leaned forward. Berserker leaned back into his seat.

“He was a bit odd, but very intelligent...”

Their conversation lasted for hours.


	3. Investigations

“Look at this. People are disappearin’. That sound like a good lead?” Remia asked, turning to Archer. The two had been going over report after report, trying to find advanced information on the other servants while Lancer went out on patrol.

“Surely the report does not only say that. What else?”

“Whole yacht full a’ people just left the dock and then never came back. Sounds like a ghost story, ‘cept for the part where you can ‘still hear their party music on misty nights’,” Remia informed. Archer turned his head back to the other reports.

“No? Come on, we gotta find somethin’.”

“I doubt that will lead us to a Servant. Strange occurrences happen everyday, but not all are related to Magic.”

“Listen, I’m tired of just rootin’ around papers and reports and my legs are crampin’ from just sittin’ here. Let’s go stretch our legs, at least. After all, what are the chances of Lancer findin’ a servant before we encounter one by just boundin’ around?”

Archer looked like he considered it. He eventually nodded. “Agreed. I am restless, as well.”

Remia congratulated himself and made sure he grabbed his hat before leaving out the door. As he began to walk down the street, Remia stretched his arms and let the warmth of the sun wash over him. He glanced around and noticed Archer wasn’t following him.

“I don’t suppose you’d enjoy a walk around in the sun for just a little bit?”

_ I am not dressed inconspicuously, _ Archer responded from his spirit form.

Remia shrugged. “That don’t matter. I already look as American as they come, they’ll just group you in with me.”

_ It is still wiser for me to remain hidden until I am needed, _ Archer reasoned.

“Suit yourself.”

_ Why speak to me out loud? You draw attention to yourself if they think you’re speaking to no one. _

Remia reached into his pocket and pulled a phone out of it. He slipped it up to his ear. “Now it looks like I’m talking to someone on the phone. Better? ”

_...Yes. _

“Well, I’m glad there's such good reception in a country my phone ain’t supposed to work in.”

Archer didn’t respond.

“Not much of the jokin’ type, huh? Well, fine by me, it just means I’m the funny man in our little double act.”

_ I do not understand. _

“Y’know, like in comedy? There’s a straight, serious guy, and then there’s the one that spouts all the jokes and everyone likes better. The latter bein’ me.”

_...If that is how you wish to enact our strategy, so be it. _

Remia rolled his eyes. “Man, I really did think you’d have a better sense of humor. Guess that just means it’s true what they say… you should never meet your heroes.”

_ Ah, because the expectation of the hero is usually very different from reality. _

“Er… yeah.”

They walked in silence for a bit. “Can I take this phone away from my ear?”

_ I never said I would like you to have a phone at your ear. _

Remia just shook his head and pocketed his phone again. “When there’re more people around, I’ll bring it out so you can feel better, but everyone’s at the beach today, hardly anybody is gonna be in town here.”

_ But if even one is a Magus, they can spot you and attack. _

“If they attack with a servant, you can just pop out of your spirit form and fight back. Otherwise, they’ll just be attackin’ with themselves, and I can handle any Mage dumb enough to do that. They don’t call me ‘Johnny the Duelist’ for nothing.”

_ Who is it that calls you by that title? _

“Well, me. Most Mages over in America. Pretty much no one here, ‘cept for Mage Association pricks.”

_ You speak of your comrades so harshly. _

“Ain’t my comrades. In fact, they hate people like me. They just have the resources necessary to make sure a Holy Grail War gets to happen, which I needed. Now that they’ve started this whole thing, I don’t really care who wins.”

_ Did you not say you wanted Magic to return to its former state? _

“I did, but that was so Tohsaka wouldn’t kill either of us. Truth is I don’t really care. The fact that I’m here? I’ve already accomplished my goal. Not just gonna give up, ‘course. I still have  _ your _ wish to think about. Which, by the way…?”

_...Ah, you seek to know my wish? _

“Sure do. You don’t wanna tell me, that’s fine, I’ll help you get it granted either way, but I’m still curious.”

_ Hmm… my wish is not complicated, as far as impossible wants go. I want to see my people returned to their true glory… without bloodshed. _

“Huh. Yeah, that ain’t such a bad wish. Now that I think about it, that’d probably force ‘em to… well, I’m gettin’ ahead of myself. Thanks for sharin’.”

As soon as his feet touched the dock, Remia stopped walking. The dock had been sandwiched between the beach and a building next to it. His eyes fell on the building next to the dock. He had walked just a bit too far.

He turned and moved back towards it.

Remia entered the building’s lush-looking reception room. He walked up to the counter and smiled at the receptionist until she finished her call and turned her attention to him.

“Hello, miss. I believe a yacht from this charterin’ company has gone missing within the past few days? Probably rented out by a few shady people? Also illegally? Let me know when your boss is out here so I can talk to him.”

After a few panicked calls from the receptionist, an overweight man in an unfitting suit came out to meet Remia, who had reclined back into a plush leather seat in the waiting area.

“Hello, sir. My name is Mr. Mannheim. Would you please accompany me into the other room?”

“Sure would,” Remia replied, still smiling.

_ If they attack you, should I reveal myself and protect? _

Remia shook his head when Mannheim wasn’t looking. After several hallways, Remia followed Mannheim into a conference room with windows looking out onto the docks.

Mannheim turned on his heel. “How did you get your information?” he asked, slightly out of breath from the long walk.

“Well, see, I represent a certain country in which your yacht may have washed upon the shore of.”

_ We received that info from Lancer’s Master’s familiars, did we not? _

“Unless you want news of your off-the-books yacht charterin’ to reach some people who might just be interested in trackin’ down the criminals you rented that yacht out to, for what I’m guessin’ to be a large sum of money, I suggest you tell me everythin’ you know about that yacht and who you rented it to.”

Mannheim had gone ghostly pale, and beads of sweat had begun to form on his forehead.

_ You cannot possibly know any of that. _

Remia pushed down the urge to respond to Archer. The slightest waver in his bluff could cause Mannheim to zip his lip. Of course, he was counting on Mannheim not knowing much of the details himself, including the whole “renting them out to criminals” thing. If it were a Master who rented the yacht, they’d’ve been secretive about it, Remia knew that much. So either he had just sealed his own fate by presuming the renter of the yacht was a Magus when they weren’t - meaning Remia had no interest anyway - or he had gotten right to the heart of the matter and cut away several lines of bullshit he’d normally have to get through.

There was always the chance that an actual criminal had, in fact, did what Remia had said and he was totally off track… but what were the chances of that?

“You are very well informed indeed, Mr…”

“Horse.”

“Mr. Horse?”

“Mr. Horse.”

“Yes… w-well, you are well informed. We had n-no idea they were criminals, however, and are fully willing to r-reassess this situation. G-granted of c-course that you keep your word about keeping this a s-secret?” Mannheim bumbled out, taking a handkerchief and dotting his forehead.

“I won’t tell a soul. Cross my heart and hope to die.”

“V-very well… what do you need f-from us?”

“Well, it's a simple little thing, really, just tell me what you know about the person that you chartered the yacht to. The more details the better.”

Mannheim moved and sat down in one of the chairs. “W-well… they were a g-group of people, as you s-said. One in particular - a woman - seemed to be in ch-charge. Dark brown hair, russian accent. Always wore g-gloves,” Mannheim began. Soon, he looked up and saw that the windows were uncovered, leading him to jump up quickly and rush to pull the curtains down on each.

“Alright, and could you tell me where they went with it?”

“‘F-fraid not. Very secretive.”

Remia scratched his chin. He had to shake the tree a little bit here, just to make sure Mannheim wasn’t holding anything back… not that that seemed very likely given Mannheim’s general air of cowardice. “Well ain’t that a shame… I was hopin’ you’d be a lot bigger help Mr. Mannheim, but with so little information to give, I guess I gotta give this information to the government and have them tear this place up.”

Mannheim immediately turned, causing the curtain he was holding onto to shoot up and break.

“N-no! Th-that’s not necessary. I-” Mannheim seemed to stop for a moment.

“Choking on your words, Mannheim? Talk quickly, I’m headed for the door.”

“I thought you s-said. Th-that the boat had washed up on your shore. W-why do you need to know where it went?”

Remia cursed himself.

“Yeah, I said that it  _ may or may not _ have washed up on my country’s shore-”

“And what country is that?” Mannheim asked, taking a step forward. He seemed to think he had Remia caught in a lie. He was right, of course, but Remia didn’t need him to know that.

“I have a cowboy hat on. Guess.”

“I’m to believe that the boat managed to cross the Atlantic Ocean over the course of maybe 12 hours?”

“First, I said  _ may _ . Second, they may have made a stop somewhere along the way, and we need to know where that stop was, that’s all.”

“You say ‘we’. Exactly who do you represent, Mr. Horse?”

“The damn government, that’s who. And frankly, Mr. Mannheim, I’ve had just about enough of your attitude on the matter. I’m takin’ this info to my superiors!”

“And what evidence do you have?” Mr. Mannheim continued. Remia realized that Mannheim had cornered him, both figuratively in conversation, and literally, as Remia was now in the corner of the room and away from the door. 

Remia had no other choice. He had to fight his way out.

“Well, Mr. Mannheim, I didn’t wanna do this, but you’ve left me no choice,” Remia smirked, reaching for his holster.

Remia suddenly felt himself falling backwards, and his surrounding seemed to be blurred for a moment. He could see faint shadows and colors of a blackish blob that vaguely resembled Mannheim running from the room. More muted colors flew by, and Remia suddenly found himself outside, on the docks, sitting down.

“You are not very good at lying,” Archer noted as he returned his red cloak to his shoulders.

“I was doin’ fine, I just slipped up.”

“You were reaching for your weapon. A good liar would have no need.”

“A good bluffer would. I was jus’ gonna threaten him a lil’.”

“Mm. I shall believe you, despite having no proof to the contrary.”

Remia stood up and dusted himself off. “Well, that was a huge waste of time…”

“How so?”

“We needed to learn where that Master on the yacht had gone, and maybe try and hunt ‘er down. Without Mannheim's sayin’ where they went, we really have no way of knowing.”

Archer held out a tape to him.

Remia dusted his hat off and placed it back on his head, glancing at the tape. “The hell is that?”

“While you were speaking to Mannheim, I went into their security rooms and stole their camera footage of the docks for the last 24 hours.”

Remia smiled and took the tape, putting it in his pocket. “I knew you were good.”

“I had little faith your plan would work.”

Remia’s smile dropped. “You’re an asshole.”

“Yes.”

Remia turned and began to head off the docks. Archer stayed, causing Remia to turn back and see Archer looking off the docks, to the opposite side of where the chartering company was.

“What’s up?”

“You said most people would be at the beach today, due to hot temperatures.”

“Yeah, what of it?”

Archer turned his head to him. “Then where are they?”

Remia turned his head to where Archer had been looking, and saw the beach completely empty. There were blankets laid down, sand castles half-built, picnic tables set up. But no people.

“Holy shit…” Remia murmured. Archer walked over and grabbed him by the waist. He jumped, and the two landed amongst the abandoned beach activities.

Remia began looking for traces of Mana, but he found none. Archer moved down to the water. Remia started to look around at the items left behind.

“This is big. And recent. If we had stayed in the office, we’d’ve only found out about this tonight at the very soonest.”

Remia suddenly felt Archer’s Mana waver for a moment. In a flash, Remia reached and drew out his gun, aiming it for where Archer had been.

Archer was still there, though, kneeling at the water’s edge.

“Archer? What’s wrong?” Remia asked cautiously.

Archer turned his head to Remia. “The water. It has been enchanted.”

Remia jogged up to Archer, holstering his gun.

“Do not touch it. It saps your strength.”

“Did more than that. Drained some of your Mana, I felt it.”

Remia reached his hand down, near the surface of the water, careful not to even graze it. He felt a small trace of Mana. Almost invisible, and totally undetectable unless you were looking for it.

“We have a Master that uses a yacht, and a group of people that disappear due to magical interference by the water. A coincidence?” Archer asked.

“Not likely. My guess is that the Master is usin’ the yacht as a mobile base. The servant must be related to water somehow.”

“We will have to try and learn more about this potential servant through research of history and myth.”

“Startin’ with that tape you got. Let’s at least get to know what our new friends look like. Also, empty one of those water bottles out over there. Try and take a sample of this water.”

Archer did so, taking a water bottle from a vacant picnic table and emptying it out. Then, he moved to the water’s edge, looking down into it. He scooped some of the water into it, though a few drops hit his hand, causing his Mana to waver a little again.

“Powerful stuff…” Remia noted. “Let’s get out of here. Police’ll start showin’ up soon, and we don’t wanna get in the middle of that.”

Archer nodded. He handed Remia the water bottle and disappeared into spirit form.

Remia looked into the water bottle. Even when out of the massive ocean before them, the water was dark blue, as if he was staring into the middle of the ocean itself. Remia swirled the liquid and watched it twirl. It seemed to otherwise just act like normal water…

Remia looked out over the ocean. They had an enemy that could weaponize the ocean in a Grail War taking place in a port town. Remia loosened his collar.

“We are in some deep shit…” he murmured.

“You absolutely are. Why did you leave the office?” Tohsaka’s voice stabbed at him.

Remia whirled, almost reaching for his gun. “Jesus Christ! Ms. Tohsaka, why the hell do you always have to be so damn scary all the damn time?”

The small shadow familiar peered at them with a single beedy red eye. Sakura’s voice floated towards them through it again. “You didn’t answer my question. While you were gone, Lancer engaged a servant in combat, and I was requesting Archer back him up. A second servant joined the battle, and I was forced to call Lancer to retreat.”

Remia took a deep breath. “Well, shit, Ms. Tohsaka, I am sorry about that. Me an’ Archer were followin’ a lead that we thought would lead us to another servant. Didn’t expect you to run into a servant so quick, to be honest…”

“We might’ve been able to eliminate a servant from the running if it hadn’t been for this mistake. Make sure it doesn't happen again,” she spoke. With that, the familiar seemed to bend into the shadows around it and disappear.

“Creepy-ass familiar…” Remia growled.

* * *

Remia and Archer had been going over the security tape for some time before they found what they had been looking for. Remia leaned closer to the screen. The television was high quality, but the camera the security had been recorded on was not. 

“That’s her. You can tell the others are takin’ orders from ‘er,” Remia noted, pointing at the black blotch that represented the Master. Unfortunately, given the quality of the video, uncovering any distinct visual aspects that she had was impossible. Remia continued playing the tape.

“Will we be able to see where they’ve gone in this boat with this video?” Archer asked, shifting in his seat.

“No point to. If I’m right, and she’s usin’ this place as a mobile base of sorts, she’ll jus’ keep it near the coastline, but probably away from any open areas, where we can see. She might also move it around, jus’ to make sure we don’t stumble upon it.”

“How certain are you of these things?”

Remia shrugged. “Pretty darn sure. It’s what I’d do if I had a water-based servant. But this gal seems a lot more dangerous than I first thought…”

Archer nodded. “She has many allies.”

“Whole damn entourage. We’ll be fightin’ a small army of mages. Hell, now that I think of it, she may not even be the true Master, of Command Seals or Mana supply, she might just relinquish that duty to one of her underlings…”

“Would she be willing to take that risk? What if her ally betrays her, and takes the Grail for himself?”

“Good question. Impossible to know right now, but we should keep an eye on the coastline for more clues when she makes another move.”

The boat moved out of the way of the camera’s sight. Remia shook his head. “Well, that’s it. Maybe I can go over it again some other time, but I think we’ve got everythin’ important.”

“Wait, pause it,” Lancer spoke from behind Remia, making him jump.

“Why the hell does everyone like scarin’ me today?” Remia whined. Lancer leaned forward and took the remote from Remia. He thumbed the reverse button and then made it play, shortly before the yacht left the harbor.

“Pay close attention to the water, near where it exits,” Lancer instructed.

Remia leaned in, as did Archer. The waters were calm, save for the ripples left from the yacht’s glide through the water.

Archer suddenly bristled.

“What is it? What do you two see?”

“I barely caught it. Rewind, and pause when it is near the surface,” Archer said, tapping Lancer lightly on the shoulder. Lancer did so, and paused it.

Archer pointed at a certain location on the screen. “There. There is a silhouette under the water.”

“The servant,” Lancer filled in.

Remia looked very close. There was only the slightest hint of a silhouette, and it only vaguely had a shape of a human, more resembling an elongated oval. But it was there.

“Goddamn. I’d’ve never seen that. Nor would anyone else. Hell, I’m not even sure I  _ do _ see it now.”

“That confirms your earlier suspicion. The servant is indeed water based,” Lancer spoke, returning the remote to Remia.

“And follows under the water… to remain hidden perhaps,” Archer theorized.

“Hold on, they were loading a lot of supplies onto the boat earlier…” Remia rewinded to earlier in the video to confirm it. “Yeah, look there, they got a whole bunch of stuff. I recognize that equipment, they’re gettin’ ready for a summonin’ ritual.”

“Then whose servant was following them?” Lancer asked aloud, putting a hand to his chin.

“Perhaps they wanted to summon a second servant?”

“On board a yacht, in a place they could be seen way easier than a secured location? Don’t think so. No, that servant must've been waiting to attack,” Remia reasoned.

“Then those on the boat have already been removed from the war?” Lancer replied.

Remia shook his head. “It’s possible, but I think that servant was theirs… meaning that not everyone on board knew that servant had been summoned. They were needed for somethin’ else, and I think I might jus’ know what…” Remia glowered.

“Sacrifices,” Archer filled in.

“Yeah. And then that same servant took an entire beach full of people as sacrifices as well.”

“Then the ones on the boat must not have been enough.”

“Problem is, jus’ what the hell requires that many? This Master is smart enough to trick an entire boatful of people into entering a yacht to sacrifice ’em, keeps their yacht charterin’ off the book so they can’t be followed, and then risks bein’ exposed by abductin’ an entire beach of people in broad daylight? Whatever the hell they’re preparin’ for… it must be damn important.”

Archer nodded. “And if they are as careful as we are lead to believe, they shall know some mages are wise to them now? They will be more careful.”

“Or more reckless, dependin’ on what their plan is. Either way, we need to find ‘em and end ‘em fast.”

Lancer spoke again. “They must not be allowed to grow too powerful.”

Remia and Archer stayed quiet. Lancer made an inaudible noise and turned, leaving without another word.

Remia took off his hat and rubbed his eyes. Archer stood up and turned for the door, but stopped before he left. He was still quiet for a beat or two. Perhaps it was because he didn’t want Lancer to hear. Maybe he was just wondering how to phrase his next question.

“How many children were on that beach?” Archer finally asked.

“Too many. Too many missin’ persons reports. Too many unsolved mysteries. Too many families with too many questions.”

Archer stood still again for a few moments. He turned his head back towards Remia. “Then how do we proceed, Master?”

Remia stood up and placed his hat back on his head. “We find the sonuvabitch an’ kill ‘im.”

Archer nodded. And turned back to head down the hallway. “I am glad we agree.”


	4. Roaring Rampage of Lawsuits

Trussa Loyuffon stepped out of her walk-in closet and did a twirl. “Well? What about this one?” she asked.

“That one’s pink. Also, it’s a bit too fluffy at the bottom,” Saber replied, picking another potato chip out of the bag and chewing on it from his reclined position on her bed.

“Yeah, I thought it looked pretty.”

“You’re not looking for ‘pretty’. Believe me. I, being the pretty boy I am, am often underestimated in power due to my dainty looks. I usually stab them in the face right afterwards, but you, being a worthless mortal, are probably less inclined to do that.”

Trussa looked down at her dress. “I like the color, though. I also like the fur outline on the skirt.”

“If it were tiger furs or something, you might be onto something, but that just looks like sheep fur. And let me tell you, no one in the history of  _ ever _ has ever been thought of as intimidating because they could kill sheep,” Saber continued. His hand reached into the bag of chips and found it was empty, so he emptied the crumbs at the bottom into his mouth.

“Well, then what would you suggest?” Loyuffon asked, turning back into the closet.

“What about that dress with the big sleeves?”

“Oh! The puffed sleeves one?”

“Yeah, that one made your shoulders look broader, that’ll intimidate the enemy.”

Trussa’s hand slipped out of the closet, holding the aforementioned dress. “What do you think? Blue or yellow?”

“Blue. Contrasts with your blonde hair better.”

Travick opened the door to the bedroom. “What the devil is going on here?”

“Picking out her war dress. Standard affair.” Saber explained away casually, crunching up the bag of chips into a ball. “Also, we’re out of chips.”

“Saber, I must ask you depart from Ms. Loyuffon’s quarters immediately! It was bad enough with you running off yesterday without us, but interfering with the young mistress’ personal affairs is hardly the solution I had in mind!”

Saber shrugged. “If it makes you feel better, I wasn’t really doing it to appease you, I was just making sure she looked suitable for when we went out to take over the world today.”

“It does not. Now again, I ask you to remove yourself.”

Trussa came out of her closet, wearing the blue dress.

“Oh! Travick, there you are. Is breakfast ready, then?”

“Ms. Loyuffon, I apologize deeply for the interruption, but I must protest bringing the servant in to your personal quarters. We’ve made adequate protections to prevent a servant from piercing our estate, you’ve no need to have this ruffian in here.” Travick snatched the bag of chips out of Saber’s hand. “Making a  _ mess  _ of things, no less.”

“But I requested Saber to be here. He was the one who invited me out, so I thought he should have a say in what I wear.”

“You’ve done what? Invited her out?”

“Yeah, she’s my servant, so I gotta take her out to see the world. She’d be useless if she didn’t know the layout of the town.”

Travick stepped in between Trussa and Saber, and turned fully to Saber.

“I’m afraid you’re mistaken. Firstly, she  _ does _ know the layout of the town. She was born and raised here. Secondly, you’ve reversed the concept of our contract.  _ You _ are  _ her _ servant. She is your master.”

Saber sat up more fully. “...Or am I  _ her _ Master? The world may never know.”

“No, there is no room for debate. She is your Master.”

“But is she?”

“Yes.”

Saber stood up. “Fine, I’ll let your little power fantasy continue for a little while. But we all know who is whose Master  _ really _ . Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to take my ‘Master’ out scouting.”

“You will not! My familiars are already scouting out the entire town, patrolling for servants. There’s no need to endanger the mistress!”

“But I want to go. I’m the Master, I need to fight, don’t I?” Trussa interrupted.

Travick whirled around to her. “Yes, but not haphazardly. We’ll fight together, like we’ve practiced.”

Saber cleared his throat.

“Yes, well, it’s about time I told you that I actually have a Noble Phantasm that, if I am contained in one place for too long, then I will explode and destroy the world. So you better let me go.”

“Saber, you have no Noble Phantasms, and it is, frankly, impossible for you to lie to me about that. I’ve modified your Saint Graph so that as soon as you reveal one of your Noble Phantasms, all details will be accessible to me via my Master’s eye.”

Saber suddenly puffed out his chest. “Fool! You shall let me go, or I will turn you and the girl into  _ dust _ with a mere wave of my hand!”

“Actually, you will do as we say for as long as we need you to. Now go find something to occupy your time with until then,” Travick replied calmly, adjusting his monocle.

Saber deflated. “Well, can’t argue with that, I suppose… your silver tongue drives a hard bargain.”

“Yes… certainly,” Travick rolled his eyes, leaving the room.

Saber scratched the back of his head. Trussa had begun to mull about the room, looking through various books on her bookshelf. She looked up from the one she was holding and saw Saber looking at her. “Oh. Now that you’re done speaking with Travick, would you like to get going?”

Saber smiled.

* * *

Saber landed on a rooftop and pulled the Mana Burst back, letting Trussa touch down on the roof as well.

“Easy there, travelling at such high speeds can be a bit disorienting for mere mortals.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I’m fine,” Trussa replied, skipping forward and looking over the city.

“Wait, really?”

“Of course. It’s not that bad. Travick had me train to be able to fight even when I’m not at my mental fullest, like when I’m partially asleep, or when my mind’s been altered with chemicals.”

“That's… oddly specific,” Saber noted, taking a step to the edge of the building with her.

“Is it? I thought all Master’s were trained to fight like that.”

Saber scratched his head. “Just how long have you been training for this war?”

“Ever since I was old enough to use Magecraft. Even though I’m the head of the Loyuffon family, I… wasn’t born with a lot of Magic Circuits. But that’s why Travick has taken over your Mana cost. He’s very good with Magecraft. He’s trained me since I was born.”

“And how old are you?”

“16.”

“Mm. I remember when  _ I _ was 16. Good times.”

Trussa turned to Saber. “Will you tell me about what it was like back in your day?”

“Oh, same as here, except less technology. I, the prince of daemons, ruled the world and then some benevolent god got salty about it and sent a few heroes to deconstruct my empire. The usual.”

Trussa tilted her head. “How did you get to rule the world?”

“I inherited it. It’s been my birthright, considering my father was the most powerful being in existence, bar none.”

“Oh? Who was your father?”

Saber stayed quiet for a few moments. He eventually looked at her out of the corner of his eye. “As if you don’t know.”

Trussa shook her head. “I don’t know who your father is. I don’t really even know who  _ you _ are, to be honest.”

Saber whipped his head towards her. “You what?” 

Trussa ignored his outburst. “What was your father like?”

Saber grumbled something to himself, but continued. “Like all good evil fathers. He evilly raised me to be evil. My childhood was filled with evil and darkness and probably dead puppies.”

“Probably?”

“I mean,  _ definitely _ dead puppies. There were a lot, I assure you. Mountains of them. But enough about me, what about you? What was  _ your _ parentage like?”

Trussa suddenly got a sad look. “Oh, I’ve never known my parents-”

“Yea yea yea, I don’t actually care, I was just distracting you away from my backstory like the evil genius I am. Now then, where shall we patrol?” Saber asked, rubbing his hands together.

Trussa, still slightly shocked, just shook her head and returned a smile to her face. She looked out over the city, admiring the buildings, forest shortly behind them, and the mountain, named Mt. Ganz, standing close by. “I’m just glad we were able to get out here. I’ve only been in the city a handful of times. I’ve memorized city maps and stuff, but getting to see it with my own eyes... The real people, down on the streets, the different buildings, each handmade by workers and improved over the centuries, all the different landmarks and history that this town is filled to the brim with… that’s not stuff you can read in books or memorize on maps. It’s just so magical,” Trussa wistfully replied, letting the sunlight catch her eyes, making them sparkle.

Saber started gagging. “Oh god, please never do or say anything that disgustingly pure again.”

Trussa shrugged and turned to him. “Okay, I’ll try.”

“Now then, I say we first begin our patrol… mmm… there. At that ice cream parlor.”

“The ice cream parlor?”

“Sure, might be a Master there. Or an ice cream related servant. You would never know unless you checked,” Saber responded.

Trussa thought for a moment. “That makes sense, I guess. Let’s go, then!”

Saber grabbed onto her and pulled her with him as he jumped off the side of the building into the street, cushioning her landing as well. A few people, startled, looked at them.

Saber waved at them. “Worry not, I’m not here to devour your souls just yet, I’m just scouting.” 

The people did their best to ignore the crazy acrobat they just witnessed and went on about their business. “We should get you some regular clothes to walk around in public with,” Trussa mentioned as they made their way into the parlor, garnering them more strange looks from the people inside.

”And why would that be necessary?”

“Well, all these people seem so worried about you. I think the armor is upsetting them.”

“Mm. Yes, that would explain why they thought I was here to eat their souls. A king wouldn’t walk amongst his people in armor unless he intended to slaughter them!” Saber loudly proclaimed.

Hushed whispers quickly flitted about the room about the insane homeless man in their midst.

Saber and Trussa received their ice cream and sat at the window.

Trussa was about to take her first bite, but dropped her spoon when she was startled by Saber suddenly spitting out his first several bites.

“What? This is an insult! Not only to me, but to ice cream!” Saber shouted, standing and walking up to the counter.

The teenage cashier was caught unawares as Saber grabbed him by the collar and pulled him over the counter, close to Saber’s face. “What is this!?”

“Uh… Chocolate ice cream, sir.”

Trussa walked up and dipped her spoon into the ice cream, taking a small taste for herself. “Tastes fine to me…”

“Well, it’s  _ terrible _ . I hate chocolate.”

“Why did you order it, then?” Trussa asked.

“Because I had no idea what chocolate  _ was _ twenty seconds ago. Turns out it’s  _ awful _ . This man shall be punished for displeasing his dark master!” Saber growled, lifting his armored fist to the sky, a position many people assumed he thought looked threatening.

“Saber, just take my ice cream. It’s vanilla,” Trussa offered.

Saber immediately dropped the cashier. “Very well, I shall try the vanity.”

“Vanilla.”

“That, too.”

Saber paused after he took a bite.

“Oh yes,” Saber commented after another bite, “oh yes, this is much better.”

Trussa smiled at the cashier as he was helped to his feet by some of his coworkers. The manager came out and met them. “Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

Saber continued eating his ice cream rapidly, forcing Trussa to respond. “That’s okay, we can take our ice cream on patrol with us,” Trussa replied politely, taking hold of Saber’s cape and gently pulling him outside.

Before Saber was fully outside of the building, his ice cream suddenly exploded into a massive ball of lightning, scorching the roof and some nearby tables, as well as lighting the teenage worker on fire.

Trussa turned to him. “What was that?”

Saber was still looking at the pile of ash and sugar in his hands with a very wide-eyed expression. “I have no idea.”

The sprinklers of the ice cream parlor turned on as Saber and Trussa left the building, along with every other extremely panicked and freaked out client of the business.

* * *

The two made their way to a local park, where they found a bench to sit on.

“You think a servant was summoned in this park?”

“Indeed. My guess is that someone sabotaged my ice cream to explode into a lightning-y ball of death, most likely to cut me from my necessary nutrients in a vain attempt to weaken me. They’d need to be very sneaky to pull one over on me, which makes me think they must be the Assassin,” Saber ranted.

Trussa continued to enjoy her chocolate ice cream, ignoring most of what he had said. “Yeah, that makes sense.”

“I thought so.”

Saber’s eyes began scouring the park as they made their way through it. “My guess is that our new enemy will have disguised himself. He could be any one of these people, any one of these pigeons… any…”

Saber suddenly turned, punching the trash can next to him and causing it to explode, cowering the area with litter.

“Hm… he’s more clever than I thought.”

“How do you know someone is an Assassin just by looking at them?” Trussa asked.

“Instinct.”

“You don’t have instinct, you hav-”

“There!” Saber suddenly shouted, Mana Bursting off into the park.

Trussa looked at where he had gone, briefly glimpsing a black smear whizzing through throngs of people, each of which became bewildered by what appeared to be a moving shadow.

After another bite of ice cream, Trussa observed as Saber came flying back, holding what appeared to be a man. Saber dropped him in front of Trussa.

“We have our Assassin, it appears,” Saber proclaimed proudly.

“What is going on? Who are you people?” the man whimpered.

“Dedicated to your facade to the very end, I see. Well, it won’t work! I have the eyes of a puma. Your disguise is useless against me, Assassin!” Saber declared.

"Assassin? What are you talking about? I’m no assassin.”

“Oh yeah? Then why, in this public park, are you dressed so  _ suspiciously? _ ”

“What’s so suspicious about a button up shirt, slacks and a tie?” Trussa interjected.

“Nothing. That’s exactly why it’s suspicious! How can anyone look as unsuspicious as you? It's very suspicious just how unsuspicious you appear!”

“I dunno anything about that, I’m just on my lunch break! Look around, a bunch of other people are wearing the same stuff as me.”

Saber crouched down and raked the man’s arm with his clawed gauntlets, shredding open his shirt sleeve and causing a cut along the man’s arm.

“That’s enough outta you. Where is your Master?”

The man reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet. “You want money? Here, take it, just don’t hurt me!”

“I don't want your damn money!” Saber shouted, snatching the wallet out of the man’s hand and pocketing it.

“Please, I don’t know anything, I just wanna go home!”

Saber threw his clenched fist into the man’s leg, wounding it and causing the man to cry out in pain. “There’s more where that came from. Now talk, before I get  _ really _ angry!”

“Saber…” Trussa said, returning from throwing her now-empty ice cream bowl away.

Saber looked at her. “Ready to come in with the good cop routine?” Saber asked.

"Oh? No. It’s just… if he were a servant, wouldn’t you be able to tell? By sensing his presence?”

Saber blinked. He looked back at the man writhing in pain on the ground in front of him.

“Oh my god.”

The man had begun weeping, curling himself up into a ball.

“Okay, I know you think you are wounded, but listen, this really isn’t that bad. You’ll probably only be out of commision for a day or-... oh wait, I broke your leg. Okay, it’s gonna be for a bit longer than a few days. Probably around a few weeks, maybe a month…”

“Um, Saber?” Trussa asked, tapping him on the shoulder.

“What, two months? I’m not a good doctor.”

“Saber, there are people who I think you should be talking to…”

Saber stood up and turned, facing three policemen with their guns drawn. “Put your hands above your head! Now!”

Saber put his hands up and inched a bit backwards, so that he was behind Trussa. “Okay, listen, Loyuffon, I need you to jump forward and distract these men while I make a grand escape.”

“Um… no?”

“C’mon, take one for the team.”

“But, I’m not the one who attacked him...”

“Listen, I wish we lived in this fairytale land of yours where I can just apologize to him and we can all go home happy.”

“I never suggested-”

“BUT WE DON’T. Prison exists, Loyuffon, and I know for  _ certain _ that it is not a happy place, probably. And let me tell you now, if we go with these men, that is where we will end up.”

“I’m not jumping at them, Saber.”

“I see you share Travick’s silver tongue. Very well, I’ll just have to find another way out of this,” Saber spoke aloud.

The three policemen had slowly begun to approach, but had been delayed due to the strange nature of Saber and Trussa’s conversation. Saber dropped his arms slightly, still holding them above his head, and stepped towards them, causing them to point their weapons at him.

Almost on cue, the sun disappeared behind some clouds, casting a long shadow over them all.

“I see some have forgotten me. That is acceptable, as it has been a millenia, perhaps longer, since I have ruled this Earth. But let me tell you now, you face not some dreary overlord who knew not what his destiny held for him. You face  _ me _ , the prince of daemons, for whom it has been foretold to return and cast the world into darkness at the end of humanity, and I shall feast upon their souls. I tell you now, that promised time has come. For it may not be today, nor tomorrow in which I come for thee, but I know that by the end of my renewed life in this modern era, it shall begin… For I am Zahhak! The Master of Darkness! The Son of Angra Mainyu! The terrible beast that is destined to become Azi Dahaka! You shall kneel before me, or be rendered to nothing more than a lifeless corpse once housed with the benevolence bestowed upon you that I despise so greatly! Turn now, and run, or it shall come to pass, as I have said!” Saber bellowed, raising his hands higher and higher, into fists.

The police men looked at one another briefly, but kept their stance.

“Very well, witness my unholy power!” Saber shouted.

The wind blew very slightly, rustling everyone’s hair. The sun reappeared as the clouds dispersed.

Saber looked at his hands and shook them, as if he were trying to get them to work. “Anything?” Saber asked.

Another moment crawled by.

Saber looked at the police men again. “Well… I’m sure we can talk this out.”

* * *

Saber and Trussa sat in the cell, side by side. The guard outside their cell was lightly snoring, having fallen asleep during the numerous boring conversations he had been having with Saber.

“Well, if I’m being honest, things could have gone a lot better,” Saber noted.

“Could they?” Loyuffon asked.

Saber shrugged. “Probably. I thought the judge would definitely buy the whole ‘destroyer of worlds’ bit.”

“Do you try that one on everyone?” Trussa genuinely asked.

“It has to work on someone  _ eventually _ ,” Saber reasoned.

“I wouldn’t count on it,” a voice called out.

Suddenly, a woman walked out of the wall, facing them. “So, you’re Saber.”

Saber jumped to his feet pointing at her. “You!” 

A moment passed before Saber spoke again. “Loyuffon, who is this?” 

“I don’t know…” Trussa replied, mystified by the woman’s appearance.

“Please, just call me Caster,” Caster introduced herself.

Saber thought for a moment. “Of course, it all makes sense now! I can’t believe I didn’t put it all together! You’re the reason that my ice cream tasted awful!”

“Alright, can you go ahead and stop talking? You’ve barely said three things to me and I already hate you. I believe that’s a new record,” Caster replied.

“Well, four things, but who's counting?”

The room grew dark, and Caster suddenly appeared to be much taller than she had been originally, and she gained a bright green and black aura around her. “Shut. Up.”

“Alright, shutting up now,” Saber squeaked out as he hid behind Trussa.

Caster calmed and the room, as well as herself, returned to normal. “Good. Now then. I had nothing to do with your ice cream.  _ Her _ ice cream on the other hand, I had booby trapped so that it would erupt into lightning and  _ kill _ her. However, you, on a mere stroke of  _ luck _ , I might add, had switched ice creams with her, so that it blew up in  _ your _ face instead.”

Saber poked his head out from behind Trussa. “So… you must also be the one that sent that emissary and tricked me into interrogating him so that I’d get into trouble with the law?”

“What did I say about talking?” Caster asked, clearly clenching her teeth from behind her mask.

Saber made the motion of zipping his lip.

“And actually, no. I  _ had _ plans for you in the park, but you started assaulting an innocent man before I could even  _ do _ anything.”

Trussa took a step forward, seemingly readying herself. “So… you’ve come to finish the job?”

Caster moved her head slightly, but it wasn’t obvious where she was looking. “Mm. No. I thought about it, but then I realized that sooner or later you’re going to defeat yourself. Honestly, you  _ shouted _ your True Name out in the middle of a public park. You’re the biggest idiot I’ve ever met, and I’ve met quite a few. I’ve only revealed myself to mock you because I know you could never harm me, even if you tried.”

Trussa stepped forward again, so that she was standing face to face with Caster.

“Leave him alone.”

Caster’s head tilted to the side, seemingly examining Loyuffon. “Oh my… a Master standing up for their Servant? How… appropriately idiotic. Have fun dying alongside one another,” Caster snickered, stepping back and disappearing into a puff of green and black smoke.

The guard outside their cell awoke with a start. He peered into their cell. “What's that smoke? Are the two of you smoking something? Better not be.” 

“Of course,  _ now _ he wakes up. Bunch of devil witches and magic and he's sound asleep, but as soon as it looks like we’re committing a crime...” Saber murmured.

“On your feet, guardsman, these prisoners have been bailed out,” another guard called out from down the hallway, beyond Saber and Trussa’s line of sight.

“Huh? So quickly?” the first guard asked, standing and fishing out his keys.

“Apparently so. Take care of your drunk friends next time, Mr. Dormir,” the second guard said, escorting Travick, who was holding a long briefcase, to the front of the cell.

“Travick! It's so excellent to see you!” Trussa called, running to him as the cell door opened. Travick hugged her as she exited. His eyes shot daggers at Saber as he looked at him, adjusting his monocle furiously.

“Ah, Travick! Let me guess, you hypnotized the guards into believing you're the mayor or somebody stupid like that?” Saber greeted, following Trussa out.

“No, you idiot. Even if I could do that, there would be no need. As it turns out, those policemen only saw you after you had attacked that man in the park, and the man himself ran off during your tirade about being Azi Dahaka, and no one’s been able to track him down. As such, no one witnessed you ever attacking him. They only have you here for public disturbance and resisting arrest. You also now have some community service to take care of,” Travick explained as he lead them out of the station.

“Wow, so all in all, it worked out.”

“Besides the day nearly being wasted, and Trussa’s life being put at stake, yes, I believe you’re correct,” Travick growled.

“Well considering I babbled like a madman about being a dark demigod, assaulted an innocent man, and set fire to an ice cream parlor, coming off with community service seems like a win, honestly.”

“How were you even arrested? You could have just killed them all.”

“Yeah, I  _ could _ have. But they handcuffed me.”

“They  _ handcuffed _ you? You’re a  _ servant _ , you could break out of them without even trying!”

“Oh yeah. Forgot about that.”

Travick stopped walking, and grabbed onto Saber’s shoulder with his free hand, letting Trussa run on ahead, humming some random tune.

“Saber, we need to talk,” Travick sighed, “I know everything that’s happened today. I’ve been keeping tabs on the two of you through shared perception of a familiar hiding in Trussa’s pocket.”

“Ah, and now that you’ve seen what a good companion and guardian to Trussa I am, you’re willing to accept me as your Master.”

“What the hell are you on about? You only foiled Caster’s assassination attempt because of luck, you nearly made Trussa an accomplice to a crime, then tried to make her  _ fight the police _ , and hid behind her when an actual servant showed up. You are a  _ terrible _ guardian.”

Saber nodded. “So… begrudging respect?”

“Listen, if it were up to me, I would kill you and then summon a new servant. But…”

Saber raised an eyebrow inquisitively.

Travick looked away. “Trussa has begun humming again. She hasn’t done that in a long time. I can’t possibly understand why, but she likes you. So I guess we’ll have to keep you around, just for her sake. That said, if we’re going to win this war, and we  _ are _ going to win this war, we need to change tactics,” Travick explained, placing the briefcase on the ground and kneeling down, unlatching it.

Saber stayed quiet, looking into the briefcase, curious as to what it might hold.

Travick stood up, holding Saber’s ceremonial blade that he had requested be strengthened. Saber gasped in awe of the blade.

“I had to essentially remake it from the ground up, but it’s actually a usable blade now, capable of withstanding the speed and strength typical of servant battles,” Travick continued, holding the blade out for Saber to take.

Saber took it, just staring at it for a few moments. He suddenly turned, and sliced a parking meter in half. He laughed. “Magnificent!”

He turned back to Travick, and saw that he was holding out a picture of a girl with dark hair and eyebrows that seemed permanently angry. Saber seemed to remember seeing her before…

“Her name is Chiaki Nakazawa. We have the address to her apartment, and we know she is the Master of Berserker. With this in mind, it’s time to get started on winning this Holy Grail War. Understand?”

Saber reached forward, holding his new blade in his offhand as he took the photo. He brought it closer to his face for a moment. He smiled a toothy grin. “Perfectly.”


	5. Research and Relaxation

Chiaki finished reading the section of the book she had been scouring, opting to keep that particular book by checking it out at the front desk - and placing a bookmark in it where she had been reading - before returning to find other works that she may find useful.

Berserker and her had been going through the mythology and history sections of the Library, trying to find anything they could on their enemies, cross-referencing whatever they found with whatever they knew.

“Saber said that he had Masters, as in plural. Is it possible for a servant to have more than one?” Berserker had asked on their way.

“Yes, though it’s rare. That’s actually what Kayneth El-Melloi Archibald had done when he won last time. His wife handled the mana usage of the servant while he could focus on battling the other Masters,” Chiaki had responded.

This led to a debate about whether or not Saber was truly a threat - and therefore if they should be discussing a strategy in order to beat him. Berserker wanted to keep him around until absolutely necessary since Berserker thought he was charming “in his own pathetic sort of way.”

Chiaki didn’t think so. Saber was an enemy. Getting too attached to any of them just meant heartbreak when they inevitably had to kill them later in the war. Masters, maybe not so, but every servant had to be destroyed in order for the Grail to manifest. That was the way it had to work.

Berserker did that thing where he ignored her when she brought it up, instead trying to persuade her that they enter a lingerie store across the street from the library instead, resulting in Chiaki doing that thing where she tried to hit him and he dodged.

Berserker drew a few strange looks as he entered the Library alongside her. Chiaki couldn’t blame them. Even with the shirt and shorts and shades, he was still an enormous hulk of a person. Luckily, however, most returned to whatever it was they were doing before he entered. The Library was notorious for being populated with quiet researchers that minded their own business. Chiaki remembered when she made fun of people like them with…

_ Don’t. Don’t go there, _ Chiaki threatened her own thoughts.

The whole reason Chiaki had decided not to just have Berserker in spirit form was because splitting the work of going through book after book would be easy if there were two of them. Despite his meathead appearance and usual meathead actions, Chiaki could tell he was more intelligent than he liked to let on. Especially when it came to research.

“Chiaki, what book is that?” Berserker asked behind her, startling her back into the present. Chiaki looked down at the book she was checking out.

_ ‘Athens - the Legendary Stories’  _ the title read. Chiaki’s mind raced through her options. The last thing she needed Berserker to know was that she was looking into his past. Chiaki would have to make up a story about meeting some other servant… or have a good reason she thought one of the heroes from Athens was Lancer, or Saber.

However, Chiaki’s thoughts weren’t fast enough to catch up with her actions, resulting in her just trying to hide the book behind her back after she had gotten it back from the Librarian.

“Personal reading,” Chiaki quickly said. She noticed that Berserker himself was holding an enormous phonebook-like tome.  _ ‘Ancient Cultures of Northern Europe’ _ . He must’ve found something.

“What do you have?” Chiaki asked, hoping to turn his attention away from the book she had in her hands just barely being concealed by her own person.

The inquisitive look in Berserker’s eyes quickly disappeared as he opened the book to a certain page. On it were several symbols, and coordinated translations as to what they meant. He held it out for her to see, as if that was all that needed to be done for her to understand.

Chiaki felt half irritated and half jealous. Whatever was on the page was clearly important. So obviously important that it didn’t need to be openly stated, and yet Chiaki couldn’t see it. Obviously these symbols held a clue to one of the servants they had met - either Saber or Lancer. The second to last thing she wanted was to look like she was an idiot in front of her servant.

She noted that while having a larger-than-life hero as a servant meant they had a good chance of winning the Holy Grail War, it also meant she’d probably have to feel insecure about her own abilities the entire way.

She decided to swallow her pride. “What exactly am I looking at?” she asked.

Berserker raised an eyebrow. “Runes. The same kind Lancer had tattooed all over his body.”

Chiaki moved passed him and over to her bag - carefully so Berserker wouldn’t see her book’s title - placing it inside of her bag. “So he’s Nordic?”

“Or Germanic. There were slight variations, so it’s possible that he’s older than Nordic, meaning Germanic, I guess. Of course, the symbols seemed to feed into one another as a huge, continuous tattoo, so it could just be a coincidence and it has nothing to do with Runes at all,” Berserker replied, standing next to her, but keeping his eyes on the runic display in the book.

“I think it’s a good lead. We should start looking in Nordic culture for spear users. Can’t be that many.”

Berserker was quiet as Chiaki picked up her bag and carried it with her towards back towards the mythology section. Once she noticed Berserker wasn’t following her, she turned back around. He had that thinking look to him again. With his current outfit, it actually looked a bit comical to her, and she fought the urge to smirk at him.

“What is it?” she asked.

“Mm… can Gods be summoned?”

The question was a serious one. And she knew why he had asked it. “Well, no. Gods are far too powerful. The amount of Mana it takes to summon even a Demigod is insane, and it’s probably not even half the amount a full Divine Spirit would take. In other words, he can’t be who you think it is.”

Berserker nodded slowly, and after a moment, looked up at Chiaki. “Very well then. I suppose it’s better that way.”

“You suppose? It’s not a  _ maybe, maybe not _ type of deal. You’d definitely stand no chance against a full-on Divine Spirit,” Chiaki scoffed as Berserker made his way towards her.

Once he had heard her comment, he stopped in his tracks. Chiaki felt a twinge of guilt beginning to boil up inside her. She seriously needed to start thinking about what she said before she said it.

“You’re probably… No. It would be difficult, but there’s no way I’d lose to anyone, especially a God!” Berserker suddenly boasted loudly, causing a mass of people shushing him to flood the Library.

Berserker looked around him. “Touchy bunch…” he grumbled.

“You have no idea…” Chiaki whispered to him. He didn’t respond, just heading down one of the Library isles. 

Chiaki followed after him. “Sorry about what I said. I didn’t mean to demean you,” Chiaki apologized.

Berserker turned suddenly, nearly causing her to run into him. He took off his shades and looked down at her with a carefree smile. “I fought six wicked men who cheated death, a giant bull-monster, and countless Amazon warriors. You think you’ll accomplish where they failed by managing to harm me - and with mere  _ words _ at that? Come now, I’d expect more faith from my Master.”

Chiaki, once again, was taken by surprise. He seemed so bipolar at times. At one moment sullen, the next brave and brash. What exactly was up with this servant? More mysteries, one after the other, just piling up on top of this person… and frankly, Chiaki was starting to get a bit sick of it.

Berserker had turned back and started combing through the rows of books, eventually finding and returning the large book of runes he had taken out before. 

Chiaki grabbed onto Berserker’s arm and began to pull him towards one of the private study rooms at one end of the Library. Berserker, perhaps feeling sorry for her, let her pull him into the room. Chiaki made sure that no staff had seen them enter, and then closed the door. She whirled around to Berserker and prepared to grill him with a question that had been burning in the back of her mind for a while.

However, she stopped when she saw that Berserker was in the process of taking off his shirt.

“Uhh… what are you doing?” Chiaki asked.

Berserker stopped and looked at her, partially frozen. He returned his shirt to its place. “Sorry, that’s just a reflex. Usually when women pull me into a private place like this its for... less than pure reasons,” he explained.

“What? Ew! No!”

“Yeah, yeah. People in Greece had a lot more fun than people nowadays…”

“Just shut up and listen! Why did you say Heracles was your greatest enemy?”

Berserker sat down in a chair at the table they had and folded his hands on the table. There was a short silence.

“Am I still being quiet and listening?”

“I asked you a question! You should  _ answer _ it!”

“I’m just trying to be courteous.” 

“Answer!”

“Okay, fine, calm down. Heracles is my greatest enemy because he’s a boastful jerk. He completes Twelve Labours, and all of the sudden he’s the greatest hero in all of Greece.”

“They  _ were _ twelve impossible tasks.”

“They were twelve  _ highly improbable _ tasks. And besides, his legend starts to overshadow everyone else's. Have you ever heard of the Six Labours of Theseus? No, no one has. Because some jerk comes along a decade or two later and completes  _ double _ that amount, just to prove that he’s better than me.”

“It was to atone for his sins.”

“It was to spite me!”

Chiaki couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “You’re jealous of him? He’s your ‘greatest enemy’ because you’re jealous of him.”

“I am not jealous, I’m being  _ overshadowed _ . Listen, name as many Argonauts as you can for me.”

Chiaki folded her arms and tapped her foot. “I dunno. I don’t know anything about that legend.”

“I bet you knew that several dozen famous heroes from across all of Greece formed together into a glorious crew in order to accomplish a mighty quest, but the only heroes you know that were on the damn ship were Jason and Heracles.”

Chiaki waited for a moment and looked at him out of the corner of her eye. “...and Medea…”

“That's it? Jason, Heracles, and Medea. That’s all you have?” Berserker asked in monotone.

Chiaki scratched her head. “...Achilles?”

“Achilles wasn’t even born yet. I mean, his father was there, so I guess that's like, half a point, but you were just guessing.”

Chiaki took a moment and started to think harder. An idea struck her, and she snapped her fingers.

“You! You were there, right?”

Berserker stared for a moment before his hands slid slowly off the table and hung limply by his sides.

“Yes, I was there,” Berserker stated quickly and without passion.

Chiaki pumped her fist. “Yes! See? I know like, FIVE heroes that were on the Argos.”

“Out of twenty five. And the ones you knew off the top of your head were the two main players of the legend, Jason and Medea, and then the third was Heracles.”

Chiaki blinked. “Okay, you may have a point.”

“Thank you.”

“But that doesn’t mean Heracles has any right to be your greatest enemy.”

“What!?”

“You’re just being petty, and very unheroic.”

“Never meet your heroes, lady, you’re going to be  _ very _ disappointed.”

“Believe me, I’m already disappointed.”

Berserker suddenly grew quiet. Chiaki could see his eyes were focused on something behind her for a moment. She turned and looked, but saw no one there. A moment later, she felt her bagged being tugged on, and she realized only too late that Berserker had pulled the Athens book out of her bag and was sifting through it.

Chiaki turned and…

She suddenly realized that she couldn’t really decide whether to be angry, or try to explain herself. Berserker spoke before she could make a decision.

“Aha! Found it!” Berserker declared.

“What? What have you found?”

“Something important,” Berserker replied, holding the book open to a certain page up to her face.

The page was somewhat random, directed to some info on Socrates. Chiaki began scanning the page and realized that perhaps it was another “obvious” thing he had found.

And then she saw something scribbled in the margin she didn’t remember seeing there before. Berserker must have wrote it.

_ There is someone watching us. Don’t look around. _

Chiaki froze. She didn’t quite know what to do. After clearing her throat, she spoke.

“Well then… uh…”

Stopping again, she came to the conclusion that she’d have to disguise what she was  _ actually _ saying behind generic phrases that could relate to the idea of her having found some clue to an enemy Servant’s identity. When she spoke, she spoke slowly and methodically.

“...What, exactly, do we do with this information?”

“Use it to our advantage. But let’s get out of here, this atmosphere is getting too huffy with all these library geeks around. Besides, I doubt we have much more to do here,” Berserker replied nonchalantly.

_ Decipher what he meant, _ Chiaki thought to herself.

He wanted to leave, but pass it off as him being bored. He used the specific excuse that the library-goers were annoying him.

_ We need to get out of here. Too many people. If a fight breaks out, they’ll be hurt. _

“Should we head back to home base?” Chiaki replied, trying to keep her voice level as she turned and opened the door for Berserker to exit the study room.

“Nah. You still haven’t shown me the sights. It’d be too boring if we went back immediately. Let’s kill some time.”

_ It would be dangerous to lead them back there. Let’s try to lose them first. _

Chiaki nodded and followed him slowly through the Library, doing her best to just keep looking forward.

But her mind had other ideas. Slowly wandering to the edges of her vision. A slight movement on the other side of the bookcase she was on suddenly became a threat. The slightest rustle of paper suddenly became a weapon being prepared. But a reaction to either of these would let their enemy know that they had been found out, and could lead to a fight.

_ Don’t look around. Don’t look around. _

Her heart skipped a beat as someone turned the corner at the same time she did, resulting in the two nearly bumping into one another. A woosh of air siced through the silence of the library, and Chiaki suddenly found herself on the other side of the aisle. Berserker had his hand on her shoulder, having pushed her out of the path of the other person, who found himself in a pile on the floor with his books in a mess, but ultimately unhurt.

Before Chiaki could try and help pick up his books, she felt herself being pulled slightly in the direction of the exit by Berserker. They needed to get out of here.

An eternity passed by as Chiaki resumed her slow gait towards those doors. Her legs ached to run, and forcing them to move at a slow pace seemed to wear her out more than just giving in to her instinct. She tried to glance around as non-suspiciously as possible. Not that she’d be able to see whoever was watching them, but she needed to do something to let out a little energy.

Just silent researchers, relaxing in one of their favorite spots.

Chiaki turned her vision back towards her goal, and noted it seemed closer. Not nearly close enough, she supposed, but close was close.

_ Just a little more _ . _ You can do this. _

A sudden and terrible thought came to her. What if Berserker was wrong about this approach? She had just trusted what he had said, and gave little to no input on the situation herself. Not that she would really know what to do either, but it could still be entirely possible that what they were doing was the wrong way to go about this. What if the person following them was sneakier than Berserker could anticipate? What if he was gaining on them due to their slow pace? Their refusal to look around would lead to their pursuer being able to come up on her from behind without their noticing. Their assailant could be right behind her and-

A piercing shriek obliterated her thoughts in the making, and Chiaki let out a squeal involuntarily. Berserker threw out a punch to his left, and wrecked the security scanner making the noise.

A security scanner. Chiaki felt the Librarian come to her side and apologize. She hadn’t checked the book out properly, is all.

Chiaki turned her head slowly to the Librarian. She felt the urge to punch her in the face rising, but instead decided to just stare hatefully at her until she left.

She turned back to Berserker, who had an eyebrow raised at her.

“Nice scream.”

“Shut up.”

* * *

Assassin folded his hands behind his back as he watched the two go on their way. He had foolishly let himself be uncovered. His “No Face May King” only hid his appearance and sound. Berserker had felt his presence the moment he got too close.

_ There’s always a next time _ , Assassin reminded himself, cooling the frustration building within himself.

To defeat a powerful enemy like Theseus, one had to be patient. And Assassin was a very patient man.

Assassin slid through the isles silently, bending around patrons of the library and looking into the sections that Chiaki and Berserker had been looking through.

A book of runes? Assassin had seen Lancer, but didn’t see him use any runes…

Regardless, the fact that he could use them made him a much more dangerous opponent than Assassin had first thought. Runes were a very adaptable and versatile magic. Assassin would have to do some research, uncover a few counter-runes, if there were any.

It's not like he had much experience with magic in the first place, but whatever advantage he could find, he would take. Especially since his original plan of just killing Lancer’s Master and letting him run out of magical energy wouldn’t work if Lancer could set up sentinel runes and keep himself anchored in the world.

Assassin slipped out the Library door. He turned and planted his foot on a bench just outside the door and kicked off it, launching himself into the air and up, onto the roof of the building. He turned, and took a look at the city. Berserker and his master were headed the opposite direction as their apartment… which meant they were trying to “lose” him. Assassin would let them run around pointlessly for a while. He had other matters to attend to.

He turned and jumped, moving towards the marketplace. His eyes scanned over the entire street, going from stall to stall, looking for appropriate foods. Fruits, vegetables, some meat. Assassin made note of everything he needed to acquire before leaving.

Then Assassin descended into the marketplace and moved towards the first stall, selling peaches. He stood just off to the side, letting the common people come through and buy their fruit. One of the fruit, which he had had his eye on, was bought by a youthful couple. They placed a few of them into their basket. How nice.

As soon as they turned to look at other stalls, Assassin dashed in and scooped a few peaches out of the basket and hid them under his cloak, letting them disappear with him. He made similar operations of taking the other products.

Once he had his bounty, Assassin moved back onto the rooftop and began moving southward. He hadn’t gotten far when he heard a cry for help. Assassin stopped in his tracks. It was the cry of a young woman. Assassin wasn’t anywhere near the belltower, so the worry that his Master had escaped and was crying for help faded from his mind. Besides, the cry was too coherent for a person missing their tongue. Assassin turned.

Apparently, the setting sun was a signal for the criminals to exit their holes and begin to hunt. A wave of nostalgia washed over Assassin for a moment as he observed a few men pulling a woman into an alleyway. He had missed the old days.

He shook his head. He needed to focus, but… this was too good an opportunity to pass up. They’d make nice target practice.

Assassin reached around his cloak and pulled it off himself, letting it disappear into spirit form. He pulled his crossbow out of it’s spirit form and looked down the alley. They had muffled the woman and pulled her behind a dumpster, blocking a straight shot. Assassin would have to reposition. He looked around for a better vantage point as he heard the men’s hushed whispers. One of the three evidently was having second thoughts about their operation. A weak link.

Normally, Assassin would’ve used that against them as a whole… but he was starting to get the impression that these criminals weren’t exactly intelligent. He wouldn’t have to disassemble their operations like he’d done in the past - he’d just kill them.

Assassin found his vantage point, a balcony on a dilapidated apartment complex down one of the convening alleyways. It gave him a clear shot. Assassin jumped, flying into position.

He rested the crossbow on the railing for a moment as he loaded the weapon. He let himself be amused by their hushed argument. Idiots. Had they ever even tried to pull off a crime like this before?

The one having second thoughts had been relegated to being a lookout. Assassin wondered if he’d have to reposition again in order to hit him. And honestly, what was the thought process behind his actions? He’s not partaking  _ directly _ in the crime, he must think that makes him vindicated. The sheriff would’ve gotten a kick out of that one…

Assassin was ready. In one hand, he gripped his weapon, finger on the trigger. With his other hand, he held it steady by clenching it’s foregrip, and he held additional bolts between his fingers for the follow-up shots. He didn’t really expect them to be able to run, but he still needed to be in practice for when he got into a scuffle with a  _ real _ enemy, namely a servant.

One of the men pulled out a knife and began cutting the woman’s clothes. Assassin squeezed the trigger, launching his bolt into the man’s head. Perhaps his weapon was a bit more powerful than he remembered, as it completely exploded the man’s skull.

Before his partner could even react, Assassin had loaded a second bolt and aimed it at his head. Another pull of the trigger, and the bolt snapped into the man’s neck, ripping it out, and letting his now disembodied head lull backwards onto the ground.

Assassin launched off the balcony, reloading in the air as he flipped, adjusting his aim for the third and final target, the lookout. The target had heard the commotion and was on his way back when Assassin fired his third bolt, blasting a perfect hole in the man’s forehead.

Assassin landed in the alleyway. Not bad work on his part, but this was small time. Perhaps he needed to up his game to more difficult targets, just in case.

The woman was screaming, scrambling to get out from under the two corpses of the men who had attacked her. There was indeed a lot of blood everywhere. Assassin moved over to her and tugged on one of the bodies, tossing it behind him. The woman managed to push the other off herself and tore down the alley, towards the street.

Assassin dipped his head forward for a moment, thinking. He loaded a bolt and fired it at the woman, killing her before she could leave the alleyway.

He had considered letting her get a little farther, so he’d have to chase her down and hit a moving target, but when he saw how slowly she had been moving, he had decided against it. It would’ve hardly been sport.

* * *

Assassin stepped into the belltower, his bag of groceries in hand.

“Evening,” Assassin greeted his Master, walking closer to her. She didn’t look at him as he approached. He tilted his head at her.

He knelt down, and placed the bag in front of her.

“I’ve gotten you some food. I know you didn’t like what I got this morning, so I tried to get something a bit more natural,” Assassin explained, reaching into it and pulling out a peach. He handed it down to her.

Her eyes kept staring straight ahead.

Assassin sighed. “Don’t like peaches, either? That’s alright, I suppose I’ll just keep taking different kinds of fruit until I get one you  _ do _ like. Until then…”

Assassin tore a small piece off the peach and reached for her chin. Her bound hands suddenly shot up. Her fingers were flat, and straightened. The universal hand sign for stop.

Assassin waited a moment, then placed the peach and the smaller part in her hands.

“See? We can be civil about this.”

After she began eating her fruit, Assassin went about cooking the meat and the vegetables. He wasn’t particularly good at it, but it was better than eating them raw, he figured.

“I killed some criminals on the way back today. That ought to please you,” Assassin called to her.

She didn’t respond, and continued to eat her peach.


	6. Reminisce

The wind was howling. The air bit with a coldness that hadn’t been felt on the Earth since. Lancer stood up to his knees in snow. After a few heavy breaths, he moved his eyes back towards the sky as a mountain sized fist made of ice came arcing over the horizon at him. Lancer gave a grim smile to himself as he readied his spear.

A blur suddenly sprang through the fist and shattered it. The man who shattered the fist landed next to Lancer, rubbing his knuckles.

“Were you going to just let it come and hit you?” a man with wild red hair and an equally wild red beard asked with a smile.

“I was warming up. Hard to move when so much damned snow is assaulting you from every angle.”

“Lay down and take a rest, brother. I’ll be sure to pick up your slack.”

“Not on your life.”

Two spires of icy liquid came erupting out of the surface of the snow near them. The liquid seemed to have a mind of its own, and whipped around into two pillars before becoming pointed at the end. The pillars bent, like a scorpion's tale, and jabbed at them. Lancer and his brother jumped back, letting the liquid crash into the snow before them.

Lancer’s brother jumped forward, throwing his fist as hard as he could into the pillar. His fist sunk into it easily, causing a large ripple across the arc of watery ice.

It suddenly solidified, encasing and trapping his arm inside of it. The second pillar reared up again and took aim.

“Aw, hell…” Lancer’s brother murmured.

Lancer launched forward and sliced through the arc of ice his brother was stuck in, shattering it completely and freeing his brother before landing on his heel and immediately catapulting backwards, twisting in the air and tackling his brother to the ground as the second icy tail slammed into where his brother once was.

He and his brother righted themselves, witnessing as more icy columns of water came erupting out of the Earth nearby.

“Why did we think this was a good idea, again?” Lancer grumbled to himself.

“I’m sorry? Did I hear just hear my big brother  _ complain _ about something? The world really  _ is _ coming to an end.”

A third man with dark blue hair suddenly appeared next to them. “All activity has ceased in the South. All that’s left is to the North of here.”

“Good work, brother. We might just have a chance of pulling this off,” Lancer’s first brother grinned.

“Keep your eyes peeled. We still have a lot to do,” Lancer warned them.

Twenty or so frigid spires surrounded them, coming down on them like a storm. The three readied themselves.

* * *

Sakura awoke.

It had been a dream of her Servant’s past. She remembered getting one or two in the past war.

Sakura stared at the ceiling for a few moments. Her mind wanted to wander back to that war. But she had work to do, and a war to win. She could reminisce later.

She eventually blinked and sat up. The sun had just begun to rise. Sakura swung her legs over the edge of the bed and stretched before heading downstairs.

_ What was his name? _

Sakura and Lancer were lucky enough to find this place yesterday. It was once known as Castle Einzbern. However, about five hundred years ago, the Einzberns abandoned it and built a new one elsewhere, which they eventually transported to Fuyuki.

Unfortunately, there were still a few Homunculi lying around in the basement area. Archer had decided to give them all a burial, so Remia and Lancer helped him set one up and bury them en masse in the back. Sakura had decided not to attend.

She assumed that it must’ve been tragic, the death of the Homunculi. They were old-form Homunculi, so it was likely that they died before the disaster in the 70s… though ever since that disaster, Homunculi all over the world had been dropping dead as Mana slowly slipped away from the world.

Needless to say, the Einzbern clan had been completely abolished by this point and time.

She turned into the dining room, where Lancer appeared before her.

“Master, I take it that after you’ve had your breakfast, we’ll be headed towards that suspicious area from the other day?”

Sakura nodded, moving past him into the kitchen area, where she found eggs on a paper plate on the counter.

“Remia left some for you. He awoke early and left with Archer.”

“Still searching for the servant from the beach?” Sakura asked, poking the eggs to test their temperature. Cold.

“Yes, master. He appeared to be quite determined to find him.”

“Had I known better, I might think he was trying to show some initiative for once.”

Lancer said nothing, he just moved to the window, looking out of it and folding his hands behind his back.

“You don’t agree?” Sakura asked as she moved past the eggs to where the cupboard where the bread was, taking out a slice.

Lancer stayed silent for a moment. “There is no shame in trying to avenge innocent people.”

Sakura placed her bread in the toaster.

“I agree. No shame, certainly. But I’m not sure it’s exactly the smartest move for him to be running around without a good idea of what kinds of enemies we’ll be facing. We already know about Berserker and Saber, but three servants remain a mystery to us,” Sakura replied, grabbing a pot and beginning to pour water into it.

Lancer nodded. “Of course. You are right, master. Perhaps I should go and retrieve them.”

Sakura thought for a moment as she placed the water pot onto the stove, which in turn began to heat it. “As long as they are drawing attention to themselves, most masters won’t have their eyes on us. I think they can continue their search for now. Not that they would listen to us if we told them to stop,” Sakura lamented, moving back into the dining room.

Lancer followed behind her. “I’ll keep an eye on them, just in case.”

“Good idea. Do so,” Sakura ordered. Lancer gave a bow, and then turned and exited the room. A moment later, Sakura heard the large doors open and then close, signifying his departure from the building.

Sakura had to admit, Lancer’s Clairvoyance was a useful skill, even though he would gain most use out of it as an Archer. As a Lancer, it was still applicable as a scouting tool. Or, as it was being used now, as a way to keep tabs on two reckless allies.

Perhaps if she was younger she wouldn’t think of them as so reckless, but time had changed her. She remembered the good days of innocent youth.

_ What was his name? _

Sakura heard a pop in the kitchen, and she turned, heading to her now toasted bread. She spread a thin layer of butter on top and, as her water began to boil, retrieved some herbs from a jar nearby and prepared tea with it.

_ Focus _ , she reminded herself. The last thing she needed was to start zoning out in the middle of a Grail War.

She waited a moment or two to let the tea cool and began to lightly munch on her toast. She gazed out the window and saw that the sky was blue, but the sun had yet to make an appearance in the sky. A cold morning, waiting to be turned into another sweltering day.

Conducting scouting missions during the day was a strategy she and Remia had adopted since the usual understanding for how a Magus should conduct themselves was to work under the cover of night. Since this was the usual, working during the day made confrontation with another servant unlikely, so recovering information about hideouts or Masters was a lot easier. Unfortunately, the run-ins with Berserker and Saber seemed to suggest that other Masters had had similar, if not the same, idea. Either that, or they didn’t know how the Mage’s Association liked things to be done.

Sakura admitted to herself that she was taking a risk continuing to operate during the day, especially since she now knew Berserker was out and about. If a fight broke out, then the likelihood of bringing in witnesses was very high, and that left a lot of cleanup. Very unpleasant cleanup she’d probably never partake in, leaving it to the Mage’s Association, who’d probably exile her for not taking care of the responsibility.

Not that Sakura really cared. The Mage’s Association was far from what it used to be. Back when Archibald won the last war and took over, he essentially indoctrinated the rest of the Mage’s Association alongside him to operate as a “parallel” to the UN. This resulted in it being more a police force than an actual association. The various branches all broke off and formed their own magecraft organizations, since the Association’s focus was now on order and not the pursuit of magic. When Kayneth died, the Association lost all its power, and while it  _ technically _ could still tell the other organizations like the Atlas Institute what to do, the likelihood that they could actually do anything about failing to follow it’s orders was very low.

Combine the political shitshow that was the Mage’s Association with Mana reserves around the world drying up, and you basically had the end of the world of magecraft as they knew it.

Enter Johnny Remia about five years ago to suggest to the House of El-Melloi to organize another Grail War and use the wish to revitalize magecraft. The fact the Association even considered a suggestion from a spellcaster like that proved just how desperate they were.

Sakura blinked when she realized she was out of tea and toast. She sighed. Here she had been going on reminiscing like she told herself not to, and she didn’t even get to reminisce about the part she  _ wanted _ to reminisce about.

_ What was his name? _

* * *

Lancer’s hair blew slightly in the wind, and he had to put a hand up to prevent it from falling into his eyes. “Still there. Still no one home.”

They looked at their target from the side of the building they stood on. A tower that stood out among the rest of the buildings in the middle of downtown. 

“That we can see,” Sakura replied.

“Astute. It's possible that they could hide their Mana somehow, like they were an Assassin.”

“Or like how you do with Runes.”

“Another excellent suggestion. I doubt there's another worker of Rune Magic in this war, but it wouldn’t surprise me if there was another form of Magecraft that could do something similar.”

“Witchcraft.”

“Possibly. We won’t find out by me standing here,” Lancer replied, stepping to the side of the building.

Sakura took a step forward as well. “Wait a moment. I’ll come with you.”

“Unnecessary. Your familiar would be just fine,” Lancer responded quickly.

“A Master and a Servant should fight close together.”

“This is not meant to be a fight, it is meant to be a scouting mission.”

“So was last time.”

Lancer peered at her with his red eyes. After a moment, he stepped back. “Very well. Will you hold on to my back or should I carry you?”

A fragmentary memory of her sailing through the sky, being carried by her last Servant temporarily flashed in her mind. She cleared her throat. “However you think it should be done best.”

Lancer nodded. He moved next to her and put an arm around her waist. “Put your arm around my neck and hold on,” he ordered. Sakura realized just how much taller than her he was as she had to reach up in r to get around his neck.

An instant later, they were flying across the gap between themselves and the tower. With a little research, Sakura had uncovered that it was actually a hotel. On top, there was a penthouse suite that had large windows on either side, good for looking around the entire town with. It would be an ideal spot to set up. Of course, the fact that Sakura had been told the penthouse was already reserved for the week had told her that there was most likely a Mage in there. It had all but been confirmed when the servant she sent scouting was killed.

The cold air bit at Sakura’s face as she soared ever closer to their destination, and she felt herself tighten her grip around Lancer. The sun had risen by this point, but had yet to warm the air.

s they sailed toward the side of the tower, Lancer stuck his foot out and caught the building’s side. He flicked his ankle, and the two were catapulted up the side, towards the top.

The rushing air, and high speed movement… it was just as Sakura had remembered from the last war. It wasn’t as  _ cold _ as it was here… or perhaps it was and Sakura had never noticed? It would’ve been hard to really remember much besides-

Lancer let go of Sakura, and she realized that they were on the roof of the building. Sakura let go of Lancer, and he began to look around the roof, perhaps for an access point.

Sakura cleared her throat again. “Sense anything? From inside, I mean?”

Lancer shook his head. “If they are a servant, they’re good at hiding it.”

Sakura herself decided to look around as well. Truth be told, she had just told Lancer to take her with him because she missed that feeling of flying. The least she could do now was try to be of assistance.

She suspected that the enemy master most likely had rented the penthouse to prevent any other mage from acquiring it as their own hideout, and didn’t stay here because of its lack of fortification and subtlety. 

“Balcony,” Lancer called over to her from across the roof. Sakura hurried over. Whatever the mage had in there, if it was anything, they could potentially learn a lot about their enemy.

Lancer held out his hand, and Sakura took it. Lancer lowered her onto the balcony, and Lancer himself merely stepped off onto it.

Sakura wondered who in their right mind would want a balcony in such a high place. The wind alone made it very cold, and she didn’t even want to think what it would be like at night.

Sakura glanced at Lancer. All this talk of cold, yet he never seemed to notice. She wondered if that had to do with his status as a servant or where he originated from.

Lancer drew a rune on the lock of the door, and she heard it click open. Lancer gently pushed the door open and let it swing wide, aided by the wind. Immediately inside, a large living space, likely a living room with a fireplace, and an open kitchen in the back. Near the kitchen, there was a door to further into the tower.

As Sakura stepped forward to head inside, Lancer held out his hand, stopping her.

“Security. Won’t be a moment. Stay here for now,” Lancer explained. He promptly began to march across the room to the door inside the tower. The second he stepped foot inside the room, buzzers began to go off from outside the door. The door suddenly clicked open, and two men in suits with guns ran into the room.

Lancer suddenly became a blur, and two sigils suddenly found themselves on the foreheads of the two guards.

“Sorry, forgot to disable the alarm before heading out onto the balcony. My apologies. Would you mind disabling that for me?”

The two guards wobbled in place with a dazed look on their face.

yes, of course…” one mumbled. He moved slowly across the room to the wall, where there was a device with a keypad. He punched in a code slowly before turning and dragging his feet back to the entrance, where he and the other guard bowed to Lancer before turning and leaving.

“...sorry for the intrusion, Mr. Wagner…”

The door clicked shut. Lancer turned to Sakura. “You can come in now.”

Sakura stepped inside and closed the doors behind herself. “Mr. Wagner?” she asked, stepping in.

“Likely a pseudonym. At any rate, we’ve got the place to ourselves now. What would you like our next move to be?”

“Take a look around, see what we can find on ‘Mr. Wagner’s’ real identity.”

“If there is anything to be found,” Lancer replied.

Sakura nodded. She walked into the living room. The furniture was posh, and its design alerted Sakura that it was likely provided by the hotel. However…

“Lancer, look at this,” Sakura called over. He came in from one of the bedrooms and joined her in the living room.

Sakura pointed at the painting above the fireplace.

“A painting?”

“Yeah. And judging by its contents, I’d say it's one not provided by the host, but rather the guest,” Sakura replied.

The painting depicted a woman sitting with a small smile on her face. In one hand, she held a sword. In the other, she held the large head of a bearded man.

Lancer took a few steps closer. “It looks to be an original painting, from what I can see.”

“Not inexpensive, then?”

“Maybe. I have no eye for this sort of thing. You’d have to ask someone who knows,” Lancer replied. Sakura pulled out her phone and took a picture of it.

Lancer left, back towards the room he had been searching in. Sakura continued searching around the living room for objects left behind. She expected to not see much in the way of clues, but considering that the Master had moved a painting in… it may just mean that he used this place as a base, and therefore, the idea of the master leaving behind other items wasn’t so far fetched after all.

As if the room wanted to confirm her idea, she saw a ray of light from the sun get caught in a glass on the coffee table. Sakura knelt down to it and tilted her head as she got closer to it. There was still some liquid left inside. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a handkerchief, gently picking up the glass with it. She brought to her nose and gave it a small sniff.

_ Juice? _ Sakura thought.

She looked at the table before setting the glass back down. No ring of liquid left behind, so it hadn’t been sitting here long.

_ Hold on… what if they had abandoned this place as soon as they realized we were coming? _

It wasn’t an absurd idea. It would certainly explain the lack of a Bounded Field… but that meant there wasn’t much here that could be seen as important, at least by the mage’s standards.

_ But what if they had something hidden away with magecraft? _

Sakura set the glass down and pocketed her handkerchief. She stood up and reached out her hand, closing her eyes. She activated her Magic Circuits, letting mana flow into the creation of a window into Imaginary Number space. Nothing greeted her, as per normal, and nothing was hidden away… but she could feel something now, much like a Bounded Field.

A Bounded Field that’s very presence was hidden away inside of Imaginary Number space? No, not quite… it seemed more like she was blocked from observing what was hidden when she was looking at it from normal reality, but there was nothing blocking her from sensing it through Imaginary Number space. Whatever it was, it was sandwiched between the two realities.

She opened her eyes. “A Reality Marble?” she thought aloud. She stopped the flow of mana, and let the window close. If it was a Reality Marble, then it should’ve been just as easily detectable as a Bounded Field. The Reality Marble must have been modified somehow, even though that should be impossible…

Sakura became aware that someone else was in the room. She had time to turn her eyes to the bald man in a black trench coat, but she couldn’t say anything else before the man began firing. She felt two jolts into her body, like lightning bolts, one in her shoulder, the other in her side.

Lancer was suddenly before her, swatting the rest of the bullets expertly with his spear, as if they were flies. Sakura felt herself landing on her bottom, having been forced back by the impact of the bullets.

Lancer dashed forward, but a sudden green explosion sent him skidding back, next to Sakura.

Sakura became aware that there was now a pale woman with a mask standing next to the man with a gun. The master and the servant. She was right. They were just hiding.

Sakura regathered herself and tried to stand up, but fell to a single knee as there was a stabbing pain in her side from the bullet.

_ Damn… _

Lancer reached up and quickly drew a rune on his cheek. He made a grunt and returned both hands to his spear.

“Damn… I was hoping that was just a charm spell.”

The woman gave a soft chuckle. “Oh? Is that a compliment? You like the way I look?”

Lancer grunted in response and moved in front of Sakura.

The woman gave another giggle. “Don’t be shy, now. Trust me, you can’t hide anything in that naughty mind of yours from me.”

“Caster. Enough,” the Master of Caster spoke.

“Au contraire. I don’t think it’s  _ nearly _ enough. Especially for such a pretty face like his,” Caster responded.

Lancer shot forward again, and a hole was torn into the wall from the sheer ferocity of his attack. However, Caster had moved to the side, and was aiming a blast of some kind at Sakura.

Sakura quickly reached into her pocket, but she wasn’t fast enough. Green lightning shot from her hand, and Lancer was once again in front of Sakura, blocking the attack.

“My my, you  _ are _ an eager boy, aren’t you? But try attacking unprovoked again and I’ll fry your Master’s face,” Caster chided.

Lancer glanced back at Sakura for a moment, checking to see if she was harmed. He quickly returned his focus back to Caster.

Sakura had been caught unawares too many times. She grabbed one of the gems in her pocket and held it tightly in her fist. She moved her hand out of her pocket, trying to keep it hidden. She grunted, and forced herself to her feet, fighting past the initial sting from the bullet.

Sakura shifted her eyes around the penthouse for the Master. He was nowhere to be seen.

“Well, what happens now?” Lancer asked, keeping his spear steady, “Are you just a pretty face? No real power to back it up?”

"You have no idea how much I’d  _ love _ to let loose right now. Unfortunately, my master would like to avoid fighting such a powerful servant.”

“And you just do as he says? Here I was thinking you were a dangerous foe, but now it’s very apparent to me that you’re just his pet, aren’t you?”

Caster stayed silent for a moment. Sakura could see her tense up. “I am subservient to  _ no one _ ,” she spoke stiffly, venom dripping from each word. She cleared her throat and quickly relaxed herself again. “But I’m also not an idiot. You’re a servant that has me far outclassed in terms of physical parameters. My magic gives me an edge, but I don’t think it’s enough to counter that dangerous looking pole you’ve got there.”

Lancer glanced at his spear. “Well then. If that’s all it is...”

He stood up straight, and tossed the spear out the window, shattering the glass.

“Lancer!” Sakura cried.

Caster tilted her head. “You threw away your Noble Phantasm?”

“If that's what it takes to draw you out into a fight, then yes.”

Sakura stepped forward. “Lancer, we do  _ not _ need to fight right now. If Caster’s Master doesn’t want a fight, then we don’t want one either,” Sakura whispered harshly at him.

Lancer waved her away casually. “I’ve seen what you can do, Caster. Frankly, I’m not that impressed. My guess is that you’ve some more tricks up your sleeve?” Lancer continued.

Caster stayed quiet again. If Sakura had to guess, she was conferring with her Master, back inside the Reality Marble, about whether or not to take him up on his offer.

"You really think your silly runes can keep up with my magic? You’re pretty good, for a non-Caster class servant, but I doubt you can match me.”

“Only one way to really find out. My only request is to allow my Master to get to a safe distance away.”

“Mm… alternatively, I could just kill you both right here. You’ve  _ already _ handicapped yourself, I don’t need to accept your terms.”

“It was merely a request. Even if you decided to fight with her here, I’d still win.”

Caster took a deep breath in and gave a breathy chuckle out. Sakura couldn’t tell if it was derisive or energetic. “Oh, that confidence of yours just makes me wanna…”

There was a short silence. Caster summoned a staff into her hand. “No deal. I love a good  _ menage a trois _ .”

The tip of her staff touched the ground, and green circles appeared all over the floor, including underneath Lancer and Sakura. Lancer reached back and grabbed Sakura, jumping up and drawing a symbol in the air beneath himself. A green jet of flame flew up from the floor, but curled around the symbol, like it was being drawn in.

Sakura saw Caster pointing her staff at Lancer and Sakura. Sakura threw her gem in that direction and activated it. The energy inside exploded outwards, forming a shield against Caster’s next blast.

Lancer landed and let go of Sakura. He shot forward, wielding two glowing sigils in the palms of his hands. Caster sank into the floor before Lancer could get to her. Lancer landed lightly and immediately shot backwards into the kitchen, where Caster was beginning to re-emerge.

Sakura heard a slight gasp from Caster as Lancer threw his right palm out, letting the sigil explode into a massive fireball, right in Caster’s face. Sakura felt an impact, and the smoke cleared as Lancer had thrown a kick into Caster’s side, sending her flying back into the middle of the living room.

Lancer was upon her immediately, throwing a fist into her gut. Sakura felt the impact radiate threw her, and knew it had to hurt. Suddenly, the second sigil in Lancer’s palm activated, cackling with electricity before exploding into pure energy and sending Caster sky high, tearing a good portion of the roof off with her ascent.

Sakura took the time to reach into her pocket and grab two more gems.

A moment later, she heard an ear-piercing scream from high above the tower.

“That’s  _ it _ , you self-righteous piece of garbage! I will  _ rip you to shreds _ !” a voice boomed down at Lancer and Sakura.

Sakura suddenly felt movement behind her and turned, just in time to see the Master of Caster exiting some kind of portal. He, too, was looking up at Caster, perhaps ready to reel her back in.

However, instead of saying anything, like Sakura expected, he simply snapped his fingers. Sakura felt a shockwave and felt the floor beneath her crack. She turned around to see a hole in the floor of the penthouse, and the sound of the two servants crashing down onto lower levels.

Sakura whipped right back around to face Caster’s Master, her gems being held at the ready.

The Master of Caster was just standing there, however.

She had intended to react to his attack and then counterattack, but him remaining still like he was… threw her off. What was it that he had done by snapping his fingers? Sakura realized that the Master wasn’t even looking at her, he was focusing on something else.

_ Lancer, what's going on? _ Sakura asked.

Lancer didn’t reply immediately.  _ Caster has been reinforced somehow. I’m not sure, but it seems her parameters have skyrocketed. _

Sakura figured that meant Reinforcement magecraft from the Master. But to a level that would allow her to fight evenly with Lancer? Even without his spear?

Regardless, this was the Master’s doing, and Sakura would put a stop to it. Sakura tossed her first gem in an arc towards the Master as a distraction, and then chucked the second at him straight-on.

Caster’s Master responded faster than she thought he would, extending his hand and materializing a pistol in it. He aimed and fired at the first one, detonating it before it got to him. The second seemed to hit him, but Sakura could tell he moved at the last second, throwing off the explosion with some kind of Witchcraft.

Sakura blinked, and didn’t reach for more gems. She remembered seeing those abilities before… didn’t she? Being able to pull a gun seemingly from nowhere and having…

“That’s… not possible. You’re dead,” Sakura murmured.

The Master of Caster smiled a little as the smoke cleared. He reached up and touched his face. “I apologize, Ms. Tohsaka. I was hoping the new look would throw you off enough, but it seems you remember more from the last war than just looks.”

Sakura glowered. They were in deep trouble.

The tower beneath them rumbled and seemed to tilt slightly. Lancer and Caster’s battle was threatening to destroy the building outright.

“Listen to me, innocent people will die if we let Lancer and Caster continue to fight. Let's call this battle off and finish it another day!” Sakura pleaded.

“And let you get away now that you know who you’re up against? Doubtful. And besides, you really think I can call Caster back now, even if I wanted to?”

“Use a command seal!”

“Trying to trick the enemy into wasting a command seal, are you? If you so desperately wish for the battle to end, why don’t  _ you _ withdraw?”

Sakura took a step back, towards the edge of the building.

_ Lancer, can you withdraw and get me? _

_ I can defeat her, I know it. Just give me time. _

_ No! Who knows how many people will get hurt? Get back here now and get me, we’re leaving! _

The tower rumbled again, and Sakura could feel the floor beginning to give way.

_ LANCER! _

Lancer suddenly appeared next to Sakura, his suit having been nearly torn to shreds and a cut on his forehead having begun to bleed. Lancer grabbed Sakura and ran to the edge of the building. He crouched and leaped into the air, off the side of the tower.

“Get back here, Lancer!” Caster shrieked as she emerged from the lower levels, shrouded in a green aura. Sakura saw that her mask had been cracked slightly, but still held tightly on to her face. From the side of her head, she had two horns poking out from underneath her hair and curving straight up towards the sky, and from her hands, long claws had sprouted from her fingertips.

Sakura was surprised as Lancer turned in the middle of the air and reached out his hand, falling backwards down towards the ground. Caster blasted towards Lancer, much faster than Sakura realized she could move.

Suddenly, Lancer’s spear flew up into his grasp. As soon as Lancer’s grip was tightly around the haft, Sakura felt Mana surge through Lancer and into the spear.

He was using his Noble Phantasm.

But Caster stopped her charge in the middle of the sky. Lancer had scared her off with just the threat of it. Lancer twisted in the air and landed on the building they had started out on. Keeping his eyes on Caster, he took several steps back. As soon as he was sure Caster wasn’t about to charge again, he turned, and began to fly his way back through the city towards Old Einzbern Castle.

* * *

Sakura sat at the kitchen table, eyes staring out the window. Her mind was on the previous war again, but this time, it wasn’t about  _ him _ … it was about her former enemy. Why was he here? Obviously it was to win the Grail War but… how? Sakura had seen him die with her own eyes. Was he that good at faking his death?

“Don’t worry, Master. They wouldn’t be able to follow us with my Mana hidden,” Lancer said as he entered the kitchen.

Sakura blinked. “Mm. That’s not what I’m thinking about.”

Lancer didn’t respond. She heard him begin to move into another room.

“Lancer?” Sakura asked before he fully left the room, turning her head towards him.

“Do you ever find your mind wandering when you don’t want it to?”

Lancer still had his back to her. “All the time.”

Sakura waited for a moment. “What about?”

Lancer turned and looked at her over his shoulder. “Someone I… used to know.”

Sakura smiled and looked down. “That’s funny. I’m the same way. At various points during the day, I find myself thinking back to the previous Grail War. And my servant.”

Lancer stepped over and pulled out a chair at the opposite side of the table.

"What makes you think about them?”

Sakura looked up at him. “I’m sorry?”

“Your mind wanders because it wants to think about the previous war and your servant. Usually, it's because something triggers your memory. What was it today?”

Sakura thought about it. “I guess… there's this thing he made for me back then… I’ve never used it, nor really had a use for it, but… I keep it with me, as a reminder.”

Lancer nodded. “Ah. Can’t really be helped, then.”

“And what about you?”

“Hm?”

“What makes you think about that person you used to know?”

Lancer was quiet for a moment. He eventually folded his hands together on the table and leaned forward slightly.

“Do you have siblings?”

Sakura nodded. “I have a younger sister.”

“I have a brother. Or rather,  _ had _ a brother. He was always this…  _ pain _ in my neck. He never wanted to do things right, he was all about jumping in foolhardy. Most of the time I just let him jump in and get hurt, learn from experience. But sometimes… I just had this  _ need _ I suppose. To prove him wrong. To  _ force _ them understand my way of thinking. The young man’s curse. The belief that you can convince a person of something by force, as opposed to discussion.”

Sakura tilted her head to the side. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I understand.”

Lancer closed his eyes and smiled. “Perhaps there's nothing to understand. You know how your siblings can get you riled up easily?”

Sakura scoffed. “Yes,  _ that _ I understand.”

Lancer opened his eyes, but Sakura could tell that his gaze was locked on something she couldn’t see. “That Berserker from before… he makes me feel the same way. His… attitude, I guess, disturbs me. His disposition is close to that of my brother.”

“Is… that going to be a problem, then? Will you be able to fight him at full power?”

“I want nothing more than to defeat him at full power. That’s the problem. In a Grail War, strategy is king. But in the face of an enemy like that Berserker… my blood boils, and I get… confrontational.”

Sakura remembered his hesitancy to recall from the battle with Caster.

“So, until you can defeat this Berserker, you’re going to be unable to focus in fights?”

Lancer stood up and stepped away from his chair. “It sounds so petty but… yes, it’s something like that.”

“It is very petty.”

Lancer bowed. “I apologize, Master. I’ll get over-”

“No. You don’t have to ignore your desire to defeat him. I’ve ignored my own passions for a long time… I don’t think it’s really done me much good.”

Lancer kept himself in his bowing position.

Sakura sighed. “Lancer, if you must first defeat this Berserker, by yourself or however, in order to have you 100% in winning this Grail War, then you have my permission to do so, and to use any means necessary to claim victory. Even if that means unveiling your true identity.”

Lancer stood up straight, his face neutral. “You are too kind, my Master.”

“Just make it quick, so we can get back on track,” Sakura added, moving towards the teapot.

“Absolutely. And… Master?”

Sakura had begun to make preparations for more tea. “Yes?”

“Your servant… from the previous war? What was his name?”

Sakura couldn’t help but laugh. She turned and faced Lancer. “It’s funny you should ask. Whenever I would ask him, he would insist that he didn’t have one.”

* * *

The three brothers stared up at the night sky.

“We… did it,” the red haired one said through heavy breaths.

“Barely,” the light purple haired one replied.

No response came from the third one.

“Ah, but even barely… we’ve proven that those forces above us can be defeated. We’ve saved our people, and who knows how many more?” the red haired one laughed as he propped himself up on his elbows.

The light purple haired one looked over at him. “But what did it cost us?”

“Heh. You worry too much, brother.”

“I’m serious. The things we can do now… no ordinary being can do them. We may have made a contract with that… thing, back there so we could save our world, but it changed us. We can’t be considered human anymore, can we? When we go back to our people, just what the hell will we be?”

The red haired one’s smile had faded. He met his brother’s gaze.

“Something new.”


	7. Dark Water

Chiaki woke with a start. It was too early in the morning for someone to be laughing that loudly. At least, it  _ felt _ too early in the morning.

She peered out from underneath her covers and looked at her alarm clock.

Yup,  _ way _ too early.

She threw the covers off herself and went to her door, opening it and stumbling down the stairs and into the hallway next to the kitchen. As she approached, the sound of voices trying to be hushed came floating out.

She stepped into the kitchen and threw the lightswitch upwards, blinding herself with the sudden burst of light, and alerting the people in the kitchen she was there. Maybe subconsciously she realized that if there were enemies in her kitchen, she just gave herself away, but she currently was too tired and aggravated to really care.

She blinked a few times as the room came into focus, and saw Berserker sitting at the kitchen table with Saber sitting across from him. In their hands, plastic cups with juice in them.

“Master, you’re up,” Berserker stated matter-of-factly.

“Regrettably...“ Chiaki growled. “What is going on? Why is he here?”

“Oh nothing, really, I just came to kill you in your sleep,” Saber explained casually.

Chiaki blinked a few more times. She reached up and rubbed her eyes. “And what, you decided to have breakfast first?”

“Breakfast? Don’t be ridiculous, who has breakfast at 3 in the morning? You are very strange,” Saber scoffed. “Although, if you’re offering to make breakfast, I wouldn’t mind some pancakes,” he continued.

Chiaki let her hands fall limply to her side, her eyes shut. “Berserker?”

“Yes?”

“Please kill him.”

“Okay.”

“But do it quietly.”

“Sure.”

“But still painfully.”

“Alright.”

“And if I wake up again I’m going to make Saber kill  _ you _ . Got it?”

“Got it. Gods know you need your beauty rest.”

“What was that?”

“Nothing.”

“I thought so.”

Chiaki turned off the light and turned back down the hallway. Their voices, still hushed, continued as she left.

“Told you she was a light sleeper...”

“Should I leave back through the window?”

“No, you can leave out the front door.”

“If anyone asks, I fought valiantly and tried to kill your Master, but you sucker punched me and I had to retreat.”

“Alright. And if anyone asks, that wine stain on the carpet is actually blood from when I sucker punched you.”

“Deal.”

Chiaki closed the door behind her and trudged over to her bed. She fell into it and tried to get a few more hours of sleep in before she had to wake up again.

* * *

_ Chiaki? You alright? _

Chiaki blinked and looked up. Their stop had just gone by. Chiaki reached up and pressed the button above her seat, signifying to the bus driver that he should stop at the next stop to let someone off.

“Just tired. Sorry,” Chiaki replied, keeping her voice low.

_ I understand a drink called ‘coffee’ can be useful in waking up. _

“Also, having an enemy servant in the kitchen downstairs at 3 in the morning is a good way to keep people up.”

_ Are you still angry about that? _

“I get very little sleep as it is, Berserker, I don’t need you throwing parties to help me wake up.”

Chiaki had explained earlier that morning that she had found an article in the newspaper describing an entire beach of people simply disappearing, with little evidence as to where or why. While the event happened a day or two ago, it was really the only opportunity to see just what kind of enemies they’d be up against, outside of the two enemies they had already met. The beach was a long walk away from where they were situated, so they took the bus.

And while she never grew tired of seeing Berserker in his silly “disguise”, fitting in on a crowded bus on a hot day would be much more difficult considering her partner was a tall and muscular waste-of-space. She convinced him to tag along in spirit form, much to his annoyance.

They hadn’t left the house until much later than they were used to. The sun was already coming down, so the entire town was cast in a shade of red. Chiaki might’ve had the time to appreciate the beauty of it if she hadn’t been so annoyed with having to reorganize downstairs after sleeping well into the afternoon. She had forgotten to reorganize after Berserker had been summoned, since she didn’t have much time to really go downstairs in the first place.

She was thankful that Berserker was willing to help organize, however. Otherwise, they might not have been able to get it done at all today.

_ It was hardly a party. _

“It was still a threat on my life.”

_ Saber isn’t a threat on your life. The man is hardly a threat to anything. Well, except one’s sanity, I suppose... _

Chiaki couldn’t help but smile at the remark, as annoyed as she was. She reached up, rubbed her eyes and yawned to disguise it.

The bus stopped and Chiaki stood up, thanking the bus driver as she stepped off the bus and onto the sidewalk. She began her walk back to where she wanted to get off in the first place, placing her hands in her jacket pockets.

_ You know, if you can’t sleep and need some company- _

“Hell no. We’ve been over this.”

_ I don’t mean anything pervy by it! Although, that offer is still open. I just mean that if you’re ever bored, I’m always around to talk. I just sit downstairs and read those old magazines you’ve got all night anyway _ .

“You read at night?”

_ Sure. I don’t need to sleep, and it would be foolish to do so anyway, so what else am I supposed to do to pass the time? _

“I dunno. I guess I just figured you wouldn’t be into reading magazines.”

_ Oh, it’s been a very educational experience. I’ve learned about historical sporting events, new car models, and 7 different ways to spice up my sex life. _

“We’ve only got a few magazines down there, have you reread them?”

_ Only a few times. _

Chiaki laughed. “I’ll get a few more on the way home today.”

_ You said the same thing about the good wine. _

“Shut up. I’m getting around to it.”

A sign pointed down a pathway to the beach. The police had tape across the entrance gate, though there wasn’t really a fence around the beach itself, so it would’ve been easy to miss. A police officer stood on the opposite side and saw Chiaki approach, keeping his eyes on her.

Chiaki just kept walking past the beach and towards the dock, which was situated nearby.

“I hadn’t planned on there being police here still…” Chiaki growled to herself.

_ Is that a problem? _

“Well, if we wanna get a close look at any evidence, it is.”

_ Well, I could knock him out. _

“I’m trying to remain incognito, alright? If they start putting my face on the news, there’ll be no doubt that another Master will see me. And you, potentially.”

_ Well,  _ you _ could knock him out. _

“No thanks. We’ll have to come back another day.”

As Chiaki was walking, something caught her eye. Next to the dock, there was a yacht charterer. She turned her head and stopped.

_ What is it? _

“Everybody is gone from that building.”

_ It’s late, why would they still be there? _

“Well, that’s not what interests me. That door isn’t locked. They must have forgotten to lock it,” Chiaki said, jogging up to it. She gave a glance over to the police to make sure they weren’t looking her way before she quickly slipped inside.

_ Chiaki, what are you doing? _

“This place looks pretty spiffy. They should have security cameras, so maybe they’ve got one pointed in the direction of that beach. We might be able to see what went down a few days ago.”

_ The police would’ve taken the film already, wouldn’t they? _

The lights were off in most of the building, but the lights above the counter were still on. Chiaki slid over the top of the counter and started looking around the desk. There was a computer, still on, and had it’s screen pulled up to a finance sheet.

“I bet the police already have, but that doesn’t mean that the footage is gone. I bet that this charter made a copy of something strange like that. It’s worth a look at least.”

Chiaki reminded herself to erase any security footage of herself in here, as well. She looked around the drawers for a bit, spying various blank forms with which the secretary would likely hand to a person looking to charter a yacht. In other words, nothing useful.

She turned her attention to the computer, but stopped when she realized she heard a very faint beeping sound. It wasn’t an alarm, she knew that…

She turned her head and saw that the phone was off it’s ringer, and a dial tone was playing. The phone itself was on the floor, not connected to the base through a cord.

“They must’ve dropped it…”

_ Or left in a hurry. _

Chiaki moved from behind the counter and looked around a corner into a longer hallway. All dark, but a few lights in an office or two were still on. Otherwise, there was absolutely no movement or sound.

Chiaki bent her knees and started moving silently through the hall, making sure her footsteps were quiet. The last thing she needed was to run into an employee working late, or worse yet, a security guard.

As she passed each office, she gave a quick glance in, to see if anyone was there. Each time she did, she saw no one. She moved up to the next corner and, crouching down, looked around it. Still, no one, and no movement or…

She did hear something. Chiaki froze, staying still and listening intently. It was very slight. A shuffling sound of some kind, but brief.

After a moment, it went away, and Chiaki slowly began to move around the corner, towards where she thought she had heard it. As she zeroed in on where exactly she heard the noise, she came to realize that she was nearing a janitor’s closet.

She gave another look around her, just to make sure there was no one around, and then she slowly reached for the handle, opening it slowly.

However, as soon as the door cracked open, even slightly, she heard whimpering from inside. “Please please please, no… God, or Vishnu, or Buddha, or the universe or whatever, please…!”

Chiaki peeked in the door and saw a balding man huddled in the corner of the closet. Their eyes met. “A-a… girl?”

“Uh, I was just… looking around and-” Chiaki started to make an excuse.

“You’ve g-got to go! Leave now, you’ll l-lead it here!” he whispered harshly, suddenly crawling towards the door.

Chiaki stepped back, pulling the door open even more. “Just stay calm, sir. I’m here to help, alright?” she said, trying to keep her voice level.

The man stood up, and Chiaki saw he was quite overweight and had a button-up shirt that seemed too loose on him, and pants that seemed too tight.

“Help? You can only h-help by leaving! It’s st-still around, I kn-know it is!” the man continued, scrambling to grab hold of the door.

“Sir, there’s no one around, I’ve been looking around for a while. Just calm down and explain what you’re talking about?” Chiaki continued, trying to sound professional. If she was lucky, she could convince this guy that she was a police officer… or some other kind of professional that was meant to be here.

Suddenly, she heard shouts and gunfire from outside, on the beach. Chiaki looked that way and didn’t notice as Berserker stepped out of spirit form behind her. The man yelped and tried to run away from them, down the hallway towards the entrance.

Chiaki whirled to face him. “What are you doing?”

Berserker answered her with a grim look on his face. “There's a servant out there.”

Chiaki looked back at where the man had gone, but he was nowhere to be seen.

“Berserker, if a servant is out there, what are the chances they’d be interested in that man?”

Berserker glowered. “Higher than I’d like them to be. Go find him, I’ll intercept.”

Chiaki and Berserker both ran down the hallway together, and for a moment, Chiaki couldn’t help but feel awesome, running alongside an ancient hero of legend.

However, their paths diverged quickly, as Chiaki turned to head down a different hallway towards the entrance, Berserker kept running straight, plowing through the wall of the building, immediately heading for the outside.

Berserker braced himself, and plowed through the wall of the building, landing on the dock just outside, which bobbed up and down from the impact, splashing water on Berserker for a moment.

Berserker winced.  _ What was that? _

He had felt Mana for an instant there… but from where, the dock itself? Or perhaps the enemy had some kind of magical field around themselves?

Either way, it didn’t matter. Berserker began taking long strides, skipping across the dock and towards the beach.

Immediately ahead of him, the enemy was walking back to the edge of the water with a police officer in his grip. The enemy casually tossed him forward, and the officer was sent sailing into the air and eventually plummeting into the ocean.

Berserker launched straight at him, closing the distance in an instant, and fired off a powerful punch straight to the servant’s head. The enemy servant flew back, but did a flip and recovered, skidding to a stop in the sand.

The servant stood to his full height, only about a half-head shorter than Berserker himself. In the dying light, Berserker studied his opponent.

The most obvious trait he had was that he was a living skeleton. On his forehead were two horns that curved upwards, and blue smoke floated out of his eye holes, nose holes, and past his teeth. His clothes were a torn and ragged long coat, which was open and exposing his ribcage, and he wore equally ratty pants and boots. In his right hand, he held a rusty cutlass with a very long blade, nearly as long as its wielder was tall.

The servant coughed out a laugh. “Yer a strong one. Lemme guess, yer Berserker? Yer slightly more sane than I was lead ta believe…”

Berserker said nothing, and simply kicked off his back foot, again closing the distance between them as quickly as possible. The enemy responded by twisting his wrist, slicing at Berserker as he approached. Berserker ducked under the first horizontal swipe, and intercepted the next several strikes with his bracers, forcing them away and leaving his opponent open as he pressed forward.

Berserker threw his left hand into a low uppercut, striking the enemy’s ribcage from below and cracking it, simultaneously throwing him into the air. Before he got too far, Berserker’s other hand shot out, gripping firmly onto the skeleton’s ankle and pulling him back, slamming him into the sand. Berserker lifted his foot and brought it down, pounding it into the sandy beach and sending a shockwave of sand exploding upwards. After the wall of sand fell, Berserker spun around, getting back into his boxing stance, fists up and close to his face.

The enemy had dodged his final strike, having rolled towards the dock. Despite being a skeleton, Berserker could tell by his body language that he was shaken.

“Not bad. I’m sure if ye actually tried, you’da killed me right there…”

The enemy titled his head over to the side of the beach, near the gateway entrance. Berserker gave a glance as well, seeing Chiaki standing next to the large man from earlier, both watching the fight.

“But tha girl’s yer Master, ain’t she? Hardly any Mana in ‘er. Wouldn’t be able to take ye goin’ all out, huh?”

Berserker turned back to the enemy. If this skeleton found out who his Master was, she’d be endangered. “Sorry, but way off. My Master’s too cowardly to come with me on scouting missions in the first place. What about your Master? Judging by the looks of it, she isn’t one for public appearances either?”

He was silent for a moment.

“Nice try. She’s yer Master. Don’t worry, I ain’t gonna try nothin’, least not yet. I’d love ta see tha look on ‘er face when I force ye to kill ‘er.”

Berserker glowered. The very mention of the act insulted Berserker to his core. “Not going to happen.”

The enemy cocked his head. “Yes it will. Jus’ wait. Tha terror, tha betrayal… oh, it’s gonna be  _ delicious _ .”

Berserker gritted his teeth and launched forward again, but his enemy just jumped back, landing in the middle of the dock. Berserker followed his lead and smashed his feet into the ground, firing off into the air and coming back down at the skeleton with his fist reared back and ready to strike.

_ Just this once… everything in a single blow! This ends right now! _

The skeleton saw him coming and let out a laugh, slicing at Berserker with his blade. The two attacks met, and Berserker easily shattered the blade, his fist continuing through the air and punching the opposing servant square in his face. The skull cracked, and then caved in on itself as the shockwave from the attack radiating out tore the dock beneath them to shreds.

The enemy went limp, beginning to fall back as Berserker and he began to fall into the waters below.

_ He… was that weak? _ Berserker had time to think before his fist, still lodged in his enemy’s skull, connected with the water.

That Mana source activated again. “What?” Berserker was shocked, temporarily stunned. The skeleton’s hands whipped around and grabbed onto Berserker, one hand on Berserker’s arm, the other on Berserker’s face.

“ _ Come join me fer a swim! _ ” the skeleton cackled, pulling Berserker completely beneath the water.

Berserker totally felt encompassed by Mana as he submerged. His vision was blurred by bubbles momentarily, but it quickly subsided.

While still near the surface, the servant twisted his position with Berserker’s so he was on top. He then pulled Berserker’s hand from his face. His head was now just a lower jaw and a horned forehead.

The skeleton’s words floated at Berserker through the water. “I won’t kill ‘er yet. I still got that promise ta keep. But by tha time ye come ta kill ‘er…”

The skeleton threw both his legs into Berserker, sending him careening into the ocean floor beneath the docks. “...she’ll be beggin’ fer death anyway.”

Berserker watched as his enemy swam back up to the surface.

Chiaki saw the water erupt, and the skeleton emerged, billowing blue smoke out of the new hole taking up most of his face. Still dripping wet, he plucked some seaweed off one of his horns as he aimed his eye-less gaze at Chiaki and the fat man.

“We have to go. Now,” Chiaki said out loud, trying to grab the man’s hand.

The man was too preoccupied with being shocked and potentially scarred for life. “I-it… it’s the d-devil himself…”

Chiaki felt the wind move, and realized the skeleton was now standing in front of them.

“Yer almost right. But I’m only  _ one _ ‘a tha devils.”

He reached forward and grabbed the man by the collar, who whimpered and futilely tried to free himself from the iron grip of the servant as he started to pull him along. Chiaki reached out and grasped firmly onto the man’s arm, trying to pull him back from the enemy.

She wasn’t sure why she was doing this. She didn’t know this man very well, she didn’t have a real reason to stand up for him. If she was smart, she’d just leave him be and run, especially considering that she had no way of overpowering a servant.

But there were some things she wouldn’t let go of. And while that statement made to herself in her head was meant to mean mostly non-literal ideals, she felt it also applied to this current situation as well.

Regardless, as the servant was far stronger than Chiaki, he simply pulled the both of them along. Chiaki tripped, and soon she was being dragged along the sand as she refused to let go of the man’s arm.

However, that changed once the skeleton took notice. He turned and saw Chiaki hanging off the man’s arm and twisted his head around fully to look at her.

“Let go. I ain’t plannin’ on killin’ ye yet, girlie, I got special plans fer ye.”

He gave a few rough shakes, but they mostly just gave the helpless man in his grasp a headache. Much to her own surprise, Chiaki herself hadn’t let go.

“I’m not… gonna let you… take him…” Chiaki grunted, finding her feet again and beginning to pull.

The skeleton turned around fully. “Here, lemme help ye with that.”

He sliced, and severed the man’s arm, causing Chiaki to go sailing back and landing on her back, still holding the disembodied arm.

The skeleton let out a laugh as Chiaki looked at what she was holding. Blood shot out of the arm stump and the man cried out in pain. Chiaki, almost without thinking, grasped the arm firmly and immediately got to her feet, running towards the man.

_ What the hell am I doing? _

Surprisingly, the skeleton set the man down, who was looking at his arm stump in horror. It looked like the skeleton was watching Chiaki… what for?

_ I can still reattach this, if I’m given enough time, _ her thoughts focused as she approached the man.

The skeleton watched on as Chiaki lined up the arm with the man’s stump. She placed one hand on the point of severance. She closed her eyes and focused, activating her Magic Circuits. Healing energy flowed from her palm and into the wound. Slowly and naturally, the arm twisted back to its original spot as skin sewn itself back together, muscle entwined with one another again, and bone welded back into place.

The man stopped crying for a moment and looked at his arm. Then he looked at Chiaki in disbelief. “You… what did-”

The skeleton stepped forward and threw a kick into Chiaki’s gut, knocking the air out of her and sending her flying back across the expanse of the beach.

“Yer a funny one. Tryin’ so desperately ta save this one. Mos’ humans I meet ‘re selfish, shallow, or in denial. Guess yer tha third kind,” the skeleton mocked as he began walking towards Chiaki, who only heard his words as far away whispers. She was holding on to her gut, still radiating in pain.

If she had to guess, he had only slightly tapped her with his foot. Even so, he was very strong, and Chiaki was lucky to be alive. Slowly, she forced herself to roll onto her knees. One by one, she placed her hands out to support herself. Then, she lifted her head in time to see the skeleton complete his walk over to her.

He raised his half-broken and rusty blade above his head. “I wonder… can ye use that healin’ voodoo ‘a yers if ye don’t have arms?”

Chiaki had wondered that as well, in a morbid line of thought. Guess she was about to find out… 

She closed her eyes and braced herself. The clash of metal startled her eyes back open.

Standing in front of her was a shirtless, tan-skinned, well-toned, dark-eyed man, wielding some kind of blade, which had clashed with the skeleton’s own sword. He looked over his shoulder at her with a piercing gaze that made her blush.

“Go. Now,” he ordered.

Chiaki didn’t argue. She suddenly felt much better, and stood up. She realized that this new arrival had placed some kind of red cloak on her, and she felt Mana flowing from it and into her.

However, she had more pressing concerns, and began to run around the two and towards the man, but stopped when she saw another man, this one with a cowboy hat, helping the once armless man to his feet.

With him being helped, Chiaki did the only other thing on her mind and turned, running back towards the gateway. She found it difficult to run, and so she removed the cloak on her back, struggling with it temporarily. She felt it get pulled off of her and witnessed the cowboy hat wrap it around the larger man.

“Who… who are you people?” the fat man had asked.

“We’re the good guys, Mr. Mannheim. We’re the good guys,” the cowboy replied, giving him a pat on the shoulder as he ushered him up the pathway.

He turned to Chiaki. “You alright, miss?”

Chiaki looked down at herself. Her clothes were messed up, sand was everywhere, and she was pretty sure her hair looked terrible. She also noted that she was suddenly very concerned with her appearance due to the arrival of that other servant… 

Servant. Another servant, and one they hadn’t seen before. And he likely had a Master, which likely meant the man in front of her.

She quickly covered her command seal by cupping her hands beneath her arms, like she was cold. “Just a few scratches,” she answered. The cowboy hat nodded and continued bringing both Chiaki and Mannheim to the parking lot.

_ He probably doesn’t think I’m a Master. Otherwise, he’d’ve just let me die to this enemy before coming in to face him. After all, he has no reason to connect me to Berserker… _

Chiaki’s heart sank.

_ Oh, crap, _ she cursed. She had forgotten about Berserker.

Chiaki turned back to the water.  _ Berserker, can you hear me? _

There was silence.  _ Berserker? _

She was worried now. What had happened under that water?

“Oh th-thank goodness! P-people are here!” the man named Mannheim cried out, breaking Chiaki out of her trance. She looked, and saw two large groups of people, moving from both sides of the street.

Chiaki heard the man in a cowboy hat swear under his breath.

“Help us, p-please! You have to c-call the p-police at once!” Mannheim shouted, moving down towards them.

The people didn’t seem to react. The sun had gone down entirely, leaving the just-now-appearing light of the stars as their only guide, so it was difficult for Chiaki to tell who they were.

“H-hello?”

One of the people in front stumbled as they got closer. Then another did, then another after that. In fact, it looked like everyone in front was stumbling down both sides of the street towards them.

A servant battle behind them, and two groups of unknown people, closing in on them from either side.

They were trapped.


	8. The Long Night

Archer found that Rider was far stronger than him, so he had little intention of keeping his blade locked with the enemy servant for very long. Archer was just thankful that Rider didn’t appear to be using all his strength against the girl.

Once he knew both the girl and Mannheim were safe, he twisted out of the way of the blade, letting it crash into the sand below. Archer immediately kicked off and went for a counterattack, jumping into the air and slicing at Rider’s head. Rider retaliated by deflecting the attack off his horns, and following up with another slash at Archer, who blocked it and threw a kick out, staggering Rider and at the same time propelling himself back.

Archer let his bayonet sink back into spirit form, reaching out his other hand and grabbing his rifle at the same time. He stood up and aimed it directly at Rider’s head, who started zigzagging as he tried to get closer to Archer.

Archer responded by immediately jumping back, planning to land on the dock.

He, out of the corner of his eye, saw that the dock had been destroyed by Rider’s fight with Berserker, and there was no solid place for him to land.

_ Hmm… I should reposition, _ he thought to himself calmly. He activated his Noble Phantasm, and slipped through a pocket into the Spirit World, blurring the world around him. He crashed into the water, but was thankfully immune to its effects here.

He resurfaced, and swam to the edge of the yacht chartering building. Making use of what appeared to be a hole in the side of the building, he crawled up into it and stepped out of the Spirit World, turning and re-aiming at Rider.

Rider was already in the process of running to the edge of the beach, towards Archer, but Archer was faster. In an instant, he had calculated the trajectory of Rider’s path and his own aim, correcting it, and firing off a shot.

Rider’s ribcage shattered, sending bone fragments flying every which way, which quickly dematerialized. Despite that, Rider continued his charge to the water, and dove into it.

Archer grimaced. Rider must’ve had some kind of special ability that allowed him to continue fighting even after being wounded so grievously. Archer had assumed as much, especially after seeing the condition of Rider’s face.

Archer reached up and grabbed onto the top of the hole. He used it as leverage to flip up onto the roof, keeping his eyes down the sights of his rifle and aiming towards the surface of the water.

Archer heard a scream from the beach. He tore his eyes away from the water, and saw Mr. Mannheim running back onto the beach from the parking lot. Remia was doing the opposite, running towards the parking lot with Archer’s cloak folded and tucked underneath his arm. There appeared to be a gathering of people coming in onto the beach from the street and parking lot...

Suddenly, the broken blade Rider had been using came spiralling out of the water from Archer’s right. Archer leaned back, letting it sail over his head like a demented discus.

Archer turned and fired his gun into the water where he had seen the blade exit, but the bullet simply plopped into the water, not hitting anything.

This was going to be difficult. If Rider had just cut his losses and ran, then that would’ve one thing, but Archer could tell he was still around. Rider was looking for a good spot to attack from, and while he was hidden like this, Archer had no choice but to stay on guard, preventing him from protecting the innocents and Remia.

As if to prove his thinking, another shout drew his attention to the beach once more. Remia was pushing the girl back towards the beach, he himself had his gun drawn and pointed at the group of people, quickly shuffling backwards.

“Go! Go! Go!” Remia was shouting.

A misplaced foot, and Remia fell onto his back. A sluggish person surged forward, reaching out to grab Remia.

Immediately, Archer re-aimed his gun towards the attacking person. But he hesitated.

Just who were those people? He couldn’t kill them, they may have just been drunk, or perhaps on some form of drug. He could, however, cripple them for the time being…

Before Archer could pull the trigger the girl had rushed forward, jumping over Remia and towards the stumbling person. Her hand, mid-jump, suddenly lit up with lightning, encasing her fist in some kind of electric glove.

Archer was momentarily taken aback by her boldness, but it soon became apparent that she didn’t know exactly what she was doing.

She threw her hand straight out, awkwardly sort of pushing her knuckles sideways, up against the stumbling person’s jaw. Had it been a punch intended to do damage, it would’ve done exactly… nothing. Luckily, it was a punch that had electricity mixed in with it, which coursed through the person far faster than Archer had expected.

The person froze up and began to shake violently as electricity ran up and through their body. Remia was suddenly standing again, wrapping his arms around the girl’s waist and pulling her away from the attacker.

Archer only now noticed that the waves pounding against the side of the yacht charterer had become heavier and louder.

_ He used those things on the beach as a distraction to prevent me from noticing, _ Archer thought to himself, slightly aggravated at his own gullibility.

Refocused on his task at hand, Archer quickly scanned the horizon for the inevitable attack, but the moon had yet to peak over the mountain behind him, so he could see nothing. This was bad.

He heard a surge of water coming from somewhere off the edge of the building, and realized that a wall of water, like a tidal wave, was arcing down on top of him and the building.

He wasted no time in opening up a fold into the Spirit World, additionally opening up an exit directly behind the wave. In a single, smooth motion, he jumped through the first fold, passing by the wave in the Spirit World, and exiting the Spirit World behind the wave. He aimed his gun downwards, towards where he assumed Rider was attacking him from.

Instead, Rider exploded out of the back of the wave itself, wielding an old rusty claymore with barnacles growing near the base of the blade and on the pommel. He brought it down with two hands, and Archer barely had enough time to pull his gun in front of himself, blocking the attack.

The force of the attack, however, was enough to send Archer hurtling down into the water instantly.

In an instant, the water coursed around him, choking him, pressing on him as if it were trying to crush him. At the same time, he felt it leach out his Magical energy. He felt rage building up inside of him, and it sharpened his mind.

He would not die here, to this monster who had slaughtered so many innocent people. He would not allow a monster such as this to win the Holy Grail War.

Archer opened a pocket into the Spirit World one more time, letting him fall into it. He still felt the dark water surge in after him, so he closed the pocket’s opening an instant later. He swam through the blurry mess, back towards the beach. He shot up and out, opening an exit and falling out of it onto the sand, landing on his hands and knees.

He looked up from his position and saw the horde of people, gathered around the entrance to the beach.

The girl and Mannheim were standing with their backs to Archer, facing the crowd of people, the blackened corpse of the one attacking person lying a few feet in front of them. Remia was in the process of running up to Archer with his Bloody Cloak. Archer wrapped the crimson cloth around himself, and he felt Mana beginning to slowly flow back into him, reversing the water’s effects.

Archer got to his feet. “What is happening?” he asked.

“I ain't too sure, but I think these people are zombies,” Remia responded to Archer. Archer looked at Remia with a skeptical look on his face.

Remia saw. “They look like corpses, they move kinda slow, and they’re trying to kill anythin’ that moves. They’re basically zombies. ‘Scuse me for associatin’ this to familiar territory.”

“Zombies are familiar territory to you?” the girl asked incredulously.

“I’ve lived a colorful life. But never you mind that, just keep your head down, miss, we’ll get you outta this, I swear,” Remia replied. He inched over to Archer, whispering to him, “Are we gonna be able to get them outta this?”

Archer thought about it. Considering the fact that the enemy had them cornered, Archer was getting low on Mana, Bloody Cloak couldn’t restore his Mana that quickly in the first place, and he couldn’t use his Bloody Cloak and his other Noble Phantasm at the same time, the odds weren’t in there favor.

“Y’know, I never suspected I’d have ta use these sacrifices this early,” Rider said, rising from the water behind them. Archer whirled, letting his gun fall into spirit form, simultaneously drawing two bayonets. He struck a fighting pose, keeping both blades ready. Their odds just got a lot worse.

Archer noticed more figures rising from the water alongside Rider. A  _ lot _ worse.

They looked like ordinary people, but their faces were pale, and their bodies were bloated. They moved sluggishly, and their skin seemed to jiggle, as if it were a balloon having been filled with water.

Archer was beginning to put it all together. He had a very good idea as to who Rider was now.

“So, this is what happens to those who drown while you are around?” Archer addressed Rider.

Rider strutted onto the beach, leaning the claymore over his shoulder. The bloated people stepped up alongside him, but didn’t move forward. A glance behind him told Archer that the bloated people guarding the parking lot weren’t moving forward either. Rider was in control of them, and he was using them just to keep them where they were, for now. There weren’t as many of them on the side of the water, but Archer figured that there wasn’t as much a need for them there, given that the dark water that Rider controlled was on that side as well.

“Yer a quick one. Figured out my Noble Phantasms so easily?”

Archer shook his head. “Not quite. But I’m starting to… Davy Jones.”

The faceless Rider tilted his head at Archer. He suddenly through his head back and began to laugh.

“That easy ta figure out, eh? Aye. Davy Jones, at yer service,” Rider said with a mocking bow.

“And these people were resurrected through your Noble Phantasm?”

“Davy Jones’ Locker. The restin’ place of any fool who dare set out inta me domain.”

“Anyone who drowns over the course of the war becomes your undead minion,” Remia pieced together, keeping his pistol trained on the nearest bloated undead.

“Aye. And remember me special plan, girlie? Davy Jones’ Locker works on Heroic Spirits, too.”

Archer glanced over and saw the girl freeze up. His eyes caught sight of what initially appeared to be a cut on the back of her hand. However, it didn’t take long for Archer to put two and two together.

She was a Master. Archer turned back to Rider. Her servant was about to come join them from beyond the grave. As if their odds could’ve gotten any worse.

Rider gave another cackle. “Well, Archer? How long do ye think ye can hold out before I gut yer Master?”

Archer could leave. He could abandon the Bloody Cloak, grab Remia and go through the Spirit World… but he certainly wouldn’t have enough Mana to get that far, and he would also have to leave the girl and Mannheim behind.

And unfortunately, he didn’t have that long to make up his mind, either. Rider started to walk forward, slowly.

Archer gripped his blades harder.

_ To the end, then. Perhaps this is the ending I had desired the first time, _ Archer thought to himself.

“Master,” Archer spoke. Remia looked over his shoulder at him and met his gaze.

“I have not known you for very long, but I am glad that I shall die with my back against one I would consider a friend,” Archer said. Remia could only stare at him, a strange look on his face.

He turned back to the shambling corpses coming towards him, dipping his hat over his eyes. “We ain’t done yet, Archer. You still gotta prove that Ms. Tohsaka was wrong about you.”

Archer turned back to Rider and gave a faint smile. “Quite right.”

Archer bent his knees slightly, ready to launch himself at Rider.

Suddenly, however, a large boat came exploding out of the water behind Rider, sailing through the air, and crashing onto the large group of bloated corpses preventing passage to the parking lot, smashing most of them to bits.

Archer and Rider’s attention both turned to the sudden yacht crashing into the beach. They became aware of a silhouette flying through the air, following the trajectory of the boat. The only reason Archer could see him in the night was because of a golden light glowing on his person. The silhouette then twirled and landed on top of the wreck, folding his arms as he stood up from his landing position. Archer could now clearly see that the golden light was produced from some kind of golden string wrapped around the figure’s right arm. A few strands of the golden string were loose, near the shoulder, and were blowing in the wind.

“So… which one of you does this yacht belong to?” the silhouette grinned.

* * *

Berserker leapt off the yacht, landing in the sand.

“Berserker!” Chiaki shouted, running up to him.

“Hey there, Master. You look well.”

“Don’t give me that, you jerk!” Chiaki shouted angrily, running up to him and trying to slap him. Berserker quickly maneuvered around the slap, getting between her and Archer’s group.

“Where the heck were you!?” Chiaki hollered, whipping around and looking at his back.

“Tracking down Rider’s Master. I don’t know why Rider just left me under the water there, but he did, so I got free reign to track down his Master. Found her, by the way, she’s in the boat, if she’s still alive,” Berserker explained, casually pointing a thumb over his shoulder at the yacht as he began to walk toward Archer and his group. As he approached, the cowboy was nervously pointing his gun at him.

“And were you just planning on leaving me to get  _ butchered _ ?” Chiaki continued.

Berserker scoffed. “I’m not that dumb. I sensed Archer on his way. I figured you, being so good at lying, would have no issue hiding your status as a Master, so even if Archer was hostile, he wouldn’t have a reason to kill you. In fact, because of the speed he was headed here, my guess is that his intention was to protect people from Rider,” Berserker continued, ignoring the cowboy and moving up next to Archer, looking at him.

“That about right?” Berserker asked.

Archer gave Berserker a wary stare. Berserker figured that Archer thought that he was going to be their enemy.

Berserker laughed and waved a hand at them. “Don’t look so worried! You have my gratitude for saving my Master.”

“In other words, ‘thanks for doing my job for me’,” Chiaki mumbled, moving back towards the group.

“Don’t be so spiteful.”

“Hard not to be when the only people that protect me are  _ other people’s servants _ ,” Chiaki scowled.

Berserker turned to Archer and his Master. “As I was saying, I have a debt to repay you. Besides, I’m sure we’d both like this monster eliminated from the Grail War first, right?” Berserker offered, pointing at Rider.

Rider glowered. “Jus’ who the hell do ye think ye are… ignorin’ me like I’m some kinda…  _ joke _ ?” Rider growled, jumping in the air at them.

Berserker immediately turned, dropping his smile, and sprung into the air, aiming to crash into Rider. Rider brought his claymore up with both hands and swung it at Berserker. Berserker could see it coming from a mile away and threw out one open hand, smacking the side of the blade away from him. His other hand then shot out and grabbed Rider’s neck.

“Come on now, Rider. I thought you wanted to go for a swim,” Berserker growled. He adjusted himself in the air, aiming to take Rider and himself into the water.

“Yer a fool,” Rider snarled.

Berserker gave a smirk as the two careened into the dark waters, making a large splash. This time, however, Berserker wasn’t shocked by the sudden activation of Mana. With his free hand, he slammed his fist into Rider’s head, breaking off chunks of what was left with each strike, including most of one horn.

Berserker saw Rider rearing up to strike, so he suddenly let go, throwing up a kick and flinging Rider backwards just as Rider swung his claymore at Berserker.

“Ye… who are ye? Why aren’t ye dying, squirming, gasping fer air? Tha water’s cursed to force ye ta drown!” Rider shouted indignantly.

Berserker blinked. “This water’s cursed? You’re trying to kill me with cursed water?” Berserker replied, his voice slightly distorted.

Berserker had to laugh. It was too funny not to. Perhaps it was just good luck, or maybe Rider’s bad luck.

Rider clenched his fists and hissed, seething with anger at the sight of Berserker’s laughing. Rider rocketed through the dark waves at Berserker, aiming to slice his throat. “Don’t ye dare laugh at me, ye pathetic human!”

Berserker easily swerved around the curve of the blade, countering with a large backfist that sent Rider hurtling through the water in a random direction.

“I’m no mere human. Of course, had you any kind of  _ restraint _ you would’ve figured that out on your own. You’d learn a lot of things, in fact. Not the least of which would be to not try and kill the son of Poseidon with a water-based curse.”

Berserker brought his hands up into his fighting pose. He shot through the water easily, gliding effortlessly around Rider, throwing punches into him far faster than he’d be capable of blocking.

Rider tried to swing his sword, but Berserker broke the sword, as well as Rider’s arms. Rider tried to swim away, but Berserker smashed his legs apart. Rider tried simply to dodge, but he couldn’t as Berserker blasted apart what remained of his torso.

Berserker stopped soaring through the water and grabbed on to Rider’s head by the sides with his massive hands.

“And here’s one more piece of advice for you: don’t try and kill innocent people when the Hero from Thebes is out and about. Have a nice stay in Hades.”

“B-”

Berserker crushed Rider’s head entirely. He dusted off his hands, turned back, and swam to the surface.

* * *

Izolda had been keeping tabs on Rider with a telescope. She didn’t have any form of Magecraft to help with familiars, and she had murdered most of her staff to assist with Rider’s Noble Phantasms, so she didn’t have much else she could really do in order to stay far from that battle, but still be able to tell what was going on.

Though she could telepathically communicate with her Servant, like all Masters, she tried to avoid it whenever possible. Rider was the temperamental sort, and he despised humans. The fact that he even allowed Izolda to be his Master was a bit surprising to her.

Of course, when she had summoned him, she had never thought that he would outright hate humans, she just wanted a servant that wouldn’t mind killing innocent people in order to gain the upper hand. What she got was a servant that killed people with glee and indiscretion. She didn’t understand him or why he was the way he was, but she didn’t really need to. As long as she succeeded in mitigating who got the Grail, she would get paid.

The best-case scenario was that she would get the Grail and get her own wish, but failing that, she would just kill anyone who “wanted to rule the world”, “wanted to return Mana to the world”, or “wanted to harm the Harwey family in any way”. If she succeeded there and lived, then the money she’d receive from the job would be enough to grant her wish anyway.

Izolda looked at her gloved hands, shaking as they struggled to lift up her telescope. They had started to hurt again.

Izolda moved quickly into the yacht’s kitchen area. She was thankful she had had the foresight to stock up on pain meds. She prepared a pill of Methadone and a glass of water, letting the tablet begin to dissolve within the water.

She placed the glass on the counter to ensure that her shaking hands wouldn’t spill the contents of the glass. She simply stepped back and watched eagerly, until the process was eventually complete.

However, the boat began to lean greatly, spilling the glass anyway. At first, she thought that the boat had simply hit a wave that was larger than usual, but as the boat continued to turn, almost onto its side, she realized that that wasn’t what was happening. Someone was turning her boat. Only a servant had that kind of strength.

She grabbed onto the counter in order to prevent from slipping, but the pain shooting through her hands prevented her from holding on, and she cursed as she felt her grip failing her.

She didn’t even understand how an enemy servant could move through the water, immune to Rider’s curse. Of course, if it wasn’t an  _ enemy _ servant, and Rider had just gotten sick of her, that was a different story. She could punish Rider with a Command Seal.

But she felt that this was different. For one, Rider liked to throw people into the water and drown them himself, whomever was doing this was trying to get her to  _ fall _ in the water.

That was her line of thinking anyway, before the boat stopped tilting and started moving. She was thrown away from the counter as the yacht suddenly jerked in one direction, pointed towards the beach.

_ Why? If he’s got me, why not kill me outright? _ She thought to herself as she stumbled further into the kitchen, trying to get to the door that led into a dining area in the boat.

As she barged through the doors, her hands began to ache with a piercing wave of pain. She hated this. She hated these flare ups at the worst possible times. She needed her pain killers.

She turned and spied a closet nearby. She needed to hide until this thing slowed down, then she could make an escape, hopefully also grabbing her Methadone on the way out.

She slid open the closet door and sat inside, closing the door on herself. She just leaned back against the wall and waited, letting the turbulence of the boat take over. Though… was it just her, or did the direction of the turbulence change? It felt like it had shifted from pressing her to the side to pressing down on top of her. That was-

Izolda felt herself slightly pick up off the ground. She felt weightless, and she realized that she was floating in the air.

The servant had thrown the damn yacht, and she was still inside. Izolda whipped around herself, grabbing the clothes around her and throwing them down, trying to form a cushion for herself.

The yacht landed, and she suddenly slammed into the pile of clothes, her hands buried beneath her. Unimaginable pain immediately sprung up into her hands. Izolda’s eyes widened, and she, for a moment, sat there, face-down, on the clothes. She consciously forced her head further into the clothes, muffling herself as she screamed with all the force she could muster.

After a few seconds of that, she stopped, breathing heavily and staring into nothingness as the pain began to slowly fade away. It didn’t fade away fast enough for her liking, but if she wanted it to disappear any faster, she’d have to start moving.

She lifted her head and saw that the yacht was titled awkwardly, almost on its side. Moving back to the kitchen would be difficult. She got to her knees, and then stood up, careful not to use her arms. She didn’t want to risk setting off another pain attack.

As she stood, she felt wetness on her face and realized that she had let tears come down from her eyes due to the incident. She gritted her teeth and shook her head, ashamed at her own weakness.

She moved forward, slamming the door open with her shoulder. She held out her elbows, trying to gain a balance as she walked up the hill that used to be the dining room.

After a brief struggle, and lots of sliding back down, she eventually forced her head into the kitchen, locking her elbows through the slanted doorway and pulling the rest of herself through.

Glass was everywhere in the kitchen, having been shattered by the impact. It was difficult for her to see, as the light had been broken, but the light from the dining room remained intact, giving her a faint idea of the layout of the room. Outside, she heard someone talking. A man, though she couldn’t make out what it was that he was saying.

Rider’s voice suddenly pierced the air. “Jus’ who the hell do ye think ye are… ignorin’ me like I’m some kinda…  _ joke _ ?”

She felt the shockwaves of two servants clashing, and heard a splash of water shortly thereafter.

She had no time to figure out what was going on, she needed to get her Methadone, and then get out of here with Rider. If a second servant besides Archer had shown up, then they were in trouble.

Izolda started to rummage around the darkened kitchen, desperately searching for the box of Methadone with her elbows as her feelers, nicking herself a number of times on the various broken pieces of glass everywhere.

She swore and stood up. Her search was futile as long as the light was out. She would just have to go, as much as she hated it. She could find some more drugs later.

“Hello,” Archer greeted, crouched on the railing outside the window.

Izolda froze, and swore in her head.

“Don’t say hello to ‘em first, you idiot!” Archer’s master’s voice called in from down on the beach.

Archer materialized his gun and pointed it at Izolda. “Don’t move or I will shoot you. Also, hello.”

A female’s laugh floated in.

“Listen here, missy, you don’t get to laugh at my servant.”

There was a short silence.

“Only I can do that. You should greet everyone that way from now on!”

This short exchange allowed Izolda to mull over her options in her head. She could use a command seal to bring Rider to her quickly, and then try to fight her way out, but there was no guarantee that she’d live with that gun trained on her. Based on how casual they were speaking, she guessed that Rider was absent, probably fighting that new servant that arrived. However, Rider had more than a few tricks up his sleeve. She was confident that he could claim victory.

Ultimately, the best option would be to go along as their prisoner and wait for Rider to re-emerge. Then, if she were close enough, she could make an escape with Rider, provided that Archer was no longer pointing his gun at her. She could, alternatively, attempt to take one of the innocents as a hostage.

Archer interrupted her train of thought by grabbing her arm and leading her to the edge of the yacht.

He gave a short hop, and the two were on the beach itself. Archer let her go, and, after getting prodded from his rifle, she began to walk towards the three others in the middle of the beach. The first was a pale, sweating, fat man wearing clothes that didn’t fit. The second was a girl in a long-sleeve shirt and jeans, and the third was wearing a cowboy hat was brandishing a revolver pointed at her.

“Howdy,” the cowboy hat greeted, identifying himself as Archer’s master.

“You look like a buffoon,” Izolda snarled at him.

“Watch your mouth, I’m a buffoon  _ with a gun _ .”

The water moved, and Izolda saw as, surprisingly, Berserker emerged from the water, stretching as he walked back ashore. “Ah, nothing like a refreshing swim. Glad he invited me.”

“Cute. Did you beat him?” the girl spoke to him, clearly annoyed.

Berserker strode up to the group with a smug look on his face. “Of course. Wouldn’t be much of a hero if a guy like  _ that _ could beat me.”

He turned to Archer. “No offense.”

“No offense is taken.”

“How… on earth did you…” Izolda growled, interrupting them.

“Not get affected by his curse? Well, normally, I’d tell you, but my Master isn’t too keen on giving away all my abilities right away. Not that it really matters considering your servant is dead.”

Izolda was about to respond, but stopped herself. They thought he was dead?

Izolda smiled. “You’re all idiots. You actually think a devil such as Rider can die?”

She could see Archer and his master tighten their grips on their guns. It wouldn’t do them much good. She smiled wider.

_ Rider, would you mind showing them a demonstration of your ‘other’ Noble Phantasm? _

_ Gladly. _

Another explosion of water erupted not far off shore, but unlike the several that had occurred today, this one was much,  _ much _ , larger.

Their eyes moved to the explosion, diverting their attention.

Izolda dashed forward, pulling the knife from her jacket. She slid up to the girl and went to throw her arm around her neck, readying her knife as well.

Suddenly, Izolda’s world was spinning, and she soon found herself face-down in the sand. She looked up, and saw Berserker’s open palm, still outstretched. Izolda turned her head to the water and saw the completion of Rider’s ship emerging from the sea. A shadow loomed over her, and she spun around to see Berserker coming down on top of her from the air.

A deafening boom came from Rider’s ship, and Berserker was blasted off course, flying back onto the beach.

Izolda turned and scrambled to her feet, making a mad dash to the seaside. She saw as a chain came whirling off the side of the ship as if possessed, slapping into Izolda’s side heavily. Izolda felt something inside her snap, and she let out a cry.

Rider apparently wasn’t in the mood to be gentle. Not that he ever was.

The chain quickly wrapped around Izolda, locking itself in place before suddenly pulling her across the expanse between the edge of the beach and the edge of the boat. She saw another chain whip out towards her, but move past her. A moment later, she heard Archer’s gun firing and being deflected off metal.

Izolda was tossed haphazardly onto the deck of the boat, and immediately, she reached for something to tie herself to. She spied a rope, and as the cannons of the ship thundered again, she quickly tied her arms to the side of the ship.

The wind picked up, and slammed into her like a wall, throwing her lower body around. The old ship on which she stood turned, creaking and cracking the entire way. The sails turned on their own, piloting itself back towards the open sea.

Izolda started to laugh. What imbeciles. They discovered Rider’s true identity, and they still didn’t really know what that meant. It wouldn’t take them long to find out, but the fact they didn’t even know the simple facts about what Davy Jones  _ was _ amused her to no end.

The ship continued it’s escape, and in a few minutes, they were out of reach.

* * *

Chiaki ran up to Berserker, preparing a healing spell for his torso, where the cannonball had struck him. Berserker stood up, surprisingly alright. He had a few scratches across his chest, but other than that, he was okay.

“Wow… your endurance is a lot higher than I give it credit for.”

“Ain’t nothin’ to do with his endurance,” Archer’s master said, moving over to them, “My guess is that those cannons weren’t spiritually made. It was just  _ infected _ with magical energy. Enough to scratch him, but not really damage him like a real cannon would tear you or me apart.”

Chiaki finished healing Berserker and turned around to face Archer’s master. “And what does that mean?”

Archer moved up beside his master. “It means that that ship wasn’t summoned alongside Rider. It is not his Noble Phantasm.”

Archer’s master folded his arms and made a face, looking off to the side in thought.

Chiaki was a bit hesitant to say something in response, but Archer’s master piped in with what she was thinking anyway. “Strange, considerin’ we all saw it pop up outta nowhere.”

Chiaki cleared her throat. “Well, we know Rider’s identity, so it won’t be too difficult for us to find out more with a little research.”

“We do?” Berserker asked.

“Davy Jones,” Archer explained.

“Ah.”

There was a short silence. Chiaki was hoping Berserker would follow her lead as she gently began to step backwards. He didn’t seem to notice, though. Archer’s master audibly sighed.

“Well, I ‘spose we oughta get this over with…”

Chiaki turned and jumped for cover behind Berserker, covering her head, expecting a few thunderous blows to fill the air. However, there was more silence. She poked her head up, and saw that Berserker, Archer’s master, and worst of all, Archer were all staring at her with a perplexed look.

Chiaki blinked. “Aren’t you going to try and kill us?”

“The hell would I do that for? My servant’s mostly wiped out, your servants mostly in good shape - hell, I’m not even sure my servant could beat yours if they were both at full power, and even if I did, I  _ certainly _ wouldn’t start a fight with a Berserker at close range.”

Chiaki stood up, angrily dusting herself off. “Then what the hell were you sighing and being all ‘let’s get this over with’ about?”

Archer’s master pointed a thumb over his shoulder. “Mannheim passed out. I don’t wanna deal with that.”

Chiaki just stared angrily, somewhat speechless.

Archer’s master suddenly smirked. “Damn, if looks could kill.”

“She’d be a mass murderer, if that were the case,” Berserker replied, slightly under his breath.

Archer’s master let out a laugh. “I bet so. I thought she was just angry about the situation she was in, but her eyebrows are just angry like that all the time, ain’t they?”

Chiaki could feel red beginning to fill her face. “I… I don’t-”

“You have very angry eyebrows, Chiaki. You look like you’re gonna kill everyone at any given moment,” Berserker interrupted.

Archer’s master raised an eyebrow. “Chiaki, huh?”

Berserker and Chiaki were frozen there a moment, looking at one another. Chiaki with an annoyed look on her face, and Berserker with a guilty face.

“Did you just say my real name. In. Front. Of our future enemy?”

Berserker rubbed the back of his head. “Alright, go ahead, I deserve this one.”

Chiaki threw out her hand and slapped Berserker, though he didn’t even flinch, which annoyed Chiaki a bit more. Least he could do was at least  _ act _ like it hurt…

“Well, hey, it’s really not that big a deal. I was gonna ask you anyway after I introduced myself.”

Chiaki and Berserker looked at him at the same time. “Name’s Johnny Remia. Pleasure to meetcha.”

Chiaki blinked. “What?”

Remia took off his hat and looked at it, dusting off a few sand particles. “Well, I hate to admit it, but I ain’t much for war. Thing is, I figured this Holy Grail War was all gonna be assholes killin’ each other over world domination or somethin’ like that, but…”

“Then we were fortunate enough to meet you,” Archer filled in, giving another gaze at Chiaki that made her realize how beautiful his dark eyes were.

“I-I… I mean, I’m n-not really…” Chiaki began, stumbling over her words.

She felt Berserker’s hands fall heavily on her shoulder. “She’s being modest. She’d sacrifice her life for even the smallest of beings. Noble to the bitter end, this one. She happens to be single.”

The last statement snapped Chiaki out of her trance. She threw out her hand to slap Berserker, but he dodged it easily. He looked down at her with a look on his face. “What? I’m helping.”

“No, you are not, and we are  _ leaving _ ,” Chiaki firmly stated through gritted teeth. She didn’t wait to see if Berserker was following her, she just turned and headed back towards the streets of the city.

“Well, I’d introduce myself, but… well...” she heard Berserker say.

“Berserker is as good a name as any.”

“I suppose Archer is as well.”

Berserker said his farewell and quickly caught up with Chiaki as she began crossing the parking lot towards the street.

She glanced over at him and saw him wringing his hair out, looking at her with that same smug face.

“What!?” she snapped at him.

Berserker leaned in slightly. “You’ve got a crush on him,” Berserker teased.

“Yeah, real freakin’ mature. Just a reminder, you’re gonna have to  _ kill _ that guy.”

Berserker shrugged, giving his hair a shake. “I’m just surprised, is all. You come off as a prude, hating on me if I so much as  _ look _ at a woman-”

“Specifically when you look up their  _ skirts _ .”

“-and all along, underneath all that anger and angst there's a real human being who likes the look of a man with dark skin.”

Chiaki rolled her eyes. This was  _ just _ what she needed. An annoying pervert who could tease her about men she was  _ actually _ attracted to.

“Okay, maybe it’s not the dark skin… is it his voice? Kinda airy to me, but…”

“Berserker, for the love of god, stop.”

“Is it the eyes? I bet it’s the eyes. Those intense stares he can give, right?”

“I’m just going to stop responding.”

“You’ll tell me if I get it right, though?”

Chiaki made the motion of her zipping her lips shut.

“Will you tell me if I teach you how to fight?”

Chiaki turned her head to him. “You what?”

They had stopped at the bus station, and were now waiting for the bus to come by them.

“You keep going on about how I’m never protecting you enough, so I figured a little personal security will go a long way.”

“Go a long way towards actually keeping me safe or shutting me up about you not doing your job?”

“Both.”

Chiaki thought about it, her eyes gazing off behind Berserker. “Well, I guess that punch I threw earlier was pretty wimpy…”

“You threw a  _ punch _ earlier!?”

Chiaki felt red coming to her cheeks again. She shrugged and tried to blow it off as nothing special, mostly to hide the fact that she herself was proud of her bravery, even if she didn’t really understand it. “I… yeah, I did. That Remia guy was in trouble, so I… stepped in, I guess.”

“Starting to act all heroic, are you? Guess I have no choice but to train you if you start putting yourself into danger like that,” Berserker grinned, rubbing his chin.

Chiaki looked away, trying not to smile. “Yeah, well, guess someone has to.”

Berserker gave a chuckle a looked up at the stars in the sky. They stood there for a moment for two.

Berserker looked back at Chiaki. “Is it his tattoo? You got a thing for tattoos?”

Chiaki gave an exasperated sigh. “I thought you forgot.”

“I’m not letting this go until I get an answer.”

Chiaki put her hands on her face, rubbing them up and down again as she realized how cold she had been getting. The night air had begun to chill, now that the sun had gone down completely.

Chiaki felt very tired, as well, she noticed. Maybe that was just all the adrenaline starting to wear off. “Listen, Berserker, you can tease me all you like tomorrow, but can we please just go home without any more of this? I’m tired.”

Berserker looked at her, his smile having been replaced with a slightly concerned look. He sighed. “Ah, I’m sorry, Chiaki…”

Chiaki shook her head. “It’s not your fault, I just… I dunno, guess it’s been a long night.”

Berserker shook his head in response. “I’m apologizing because your night just got a lot longer, I’m afraid,” Berserker explained, looking across the street to the other side.

Chiaki followed his gaze and saw a man in a suit stepping out of the shadows of the building he had been under and walking onto the sidewalk opposite them. Chiaki had seen him before. It didn’t take long to remember those red eyes.

“Sorry, did I catch you at a bad time?” Lancer asked, adjusting his tie.

He looked at Berserker with a scary look. “Good.”


	9. Gods and Monsters

The wind blew in from the sea, moving Berserker and Lancer’s hair. The two just appeared to be staring at one another, waiting for the other to move first. Chiaki was only guessing. The truth was she had no idea what was going on in their heads.

“I have a request,” Berserker said, breaking the silence.

Lancer made no movements, nor did he make any indication he was listening at all. Berserker continued anyway. “Leave my Master out of this.”

Chiaki looked at him. “What? I can fight.”

“Not with him.”

“I can still be here to he-”

“ _ Chiaki _ .”

Chiaki was taken aback for a moment. Berserker continued to keep his eyes on Lancer.

“If you stay here, I cannot protect you. He’s here to kill me, and if your presence is an obstruction to that, he’ll kill you too. You cannot help me, as much as I’d appreciate it. Not at the risk of your own life.”

Chiaki wasn’t sure how to respond.

“As long as the girl stays out of this fight, I won’t touch her. The moment she interferes, though, I’ll kill her,” Lancer spoke up.

Chiaki turned her attention back to Lancer, who was still standing across the street, his hands in his pockets. His eyes moved to her, and she instinctively flinched.

“You should get away from here. I won’t hold myself responsible if you get crushed by debris.”

Chiaki blinked. Her heart was thundering in her ears. She couldn’t decide what to do, having been frozen under the icy gaze of Lancer. Could she help Berserker without being a hindrance? Was it better for her to leave and let Berserker fight at full power? How much time did she have to decide? She realized she was just standing there, doing nothing. Her heart started beating faster and faster.

It was all exactly like… that time.

_ No no no, don’t think about it, _ her mind warned her as it tried to fight against the oncoming wave of emotions.

It might’ve been too late. Images started flashing in her mind. Her father walking in… seeing him get…

_ Stop, please! _ Chiaki pleaded with her own memories. If anything, it simply encouraged them to come forward more.

She remembered seeing Uhlan standing over him… Uhlan coming towards her… that damn smile on his face…

Berserker’s hand on her back snapped her back into the present. She had started to falter, and she realized she had been clutching the sides of her head. She looked up at him, and realized he was looking directly at her, and not at Lancer.

He had red eyes, the same as Lancer, but his seemed less… severe, somehow.

“It’s okay, Chiaki. I won’t die here. I won’t let your wish go ungranted. I promise you that.”

Chiaki’s heart was slowly sinking back to its resting point. “How… how can…”

“How can I be sure? Please, Chiaki.” He gave her a toothy grin and pointed a thumb at himself. “I’m the mightiest hero of Greece.”

In an instant, she had gone from almost having an anxiety attack to having absolute confidence that he would win. She took a step or two back from Berserker, much calmer than she thought she’d be. He turned back to Lancer, still with a half-grin on his face, as he threw a punch into his own palm, shaking the area around him. “Now as much as I hate to agree with a bastard like him, you really should get out of here. There’s bound to be rubble flying every which way.”

Chiaki knew he was right. He would be okay. She would be okay. Theseus wouldn’t let himself be defeated so easily.

She turned, and started moving away, just walking quickly at first. Eventually, she began to run.

* * *

Berserker glanced to where Chiaki had gone, making sure she was at least out of sight. She was.

Berserker cracked his knuckles, turning his focus back to Lancer. “Well then, it’s good to see you finally came back to die after our first encounter. I thought I had scared you off.”

Lancer scoffed. “Please. You and I both know how that fight would’ve ended had we continued.”

Berserker moved on to cracking his neck. “Sure do. With your head being crushed between my fist and the Earth.”

“There was a building between us and the Earth.”

Berserker got into a boxing stance, keeping his fists in tight, near his face, and slightly bending his knees. “I know that.”

Lancer hardened his gaze at Berserker for a moment. “Why are you fighting?”

The question caught Berserker off guard. “I’m sorry?”

“I mean to say… your wish for the Holy Grail. What is it?”

Berserker stood up straight, letting his hands fall to his sides. “Why the hell do you care?”

“Because I’d like to know your motivations, at least. Satisfy my curiosity.”

Berserker arched an eyebrow. “I don’t have one.”

“That’s a lie.”

“Oh, well I sure am glad you can read my mind and figure out what I want better than  _ I _ can...”

“I don’t need to read minds to know that you’re fighting for more than just that girl.”

“I fight for ‘that girl’’s wish, and I don’t need another reason. You’re wrong. And if you really wanna get so close, why not tell me  _ your _ wish?”

Lancer stood still for a moment, contemplating the response. Berserker hadn’t really meant it, mostly because he never thought Lancer was the kind to exposit such information. But now that it seemed it might actually yield some information, Berserker found himself genuinely curious.

Lancer closed his eyes and shook his head. “I suppose one more try wouldn’t hurt.”

He opened his eyes and looked directly at Berserker. “I obtained my power in order to defend my world. With my superior abilities, I was heralded as a god by the ordinary people around me, and I was given dominion over a large portion of the Earth. To put it simply however, my power made me blind to an oncoming disaster that occurred. My world burned to ashes, and I, even as a god, was powerless to stop it.”

Berserker had folded his arms and tilted his head while listening to the story. “So, your wish is to undo this disaster?”

Lancer shrugged. “In a sense. You see, I had a brother that had become a god alongside myself. I found myself… preoccupied with all the struggles of being a god and king, and as a result, my brother had become estranged. The great disaster was him falling farther away from me. My wish is to gain the opportunity to try and reconcile with him. To try and save him from becoming what he would end up becoming.”

Berserker processed the information. His eyes fell to the ground and he furrowed his brow, thinking to himself.

Lancer, meanwhile looked back at Berserker and pulled his hands out of his pockets. “Is that reason enough for you? To save countless lives, as well as the life of my brother?”

“What a bunch of horse shit,” Berserker suddenly responded, looking back at Lancer.

Lancer’s face twisted in anger. “What did you say?”

“Reconciling with your brother is one thing, but don’t pretend you give a damn about the rest of the people who lost their lives in that disaster of yours. Tch. You put yourself up on a pedestal as a god, and then claim you fight for the people you subjugate?” Berserker scornfully replied.

“ _ Subjugated _ !?” Lancer bellowed, “I sacrificed my humanity in order to protect them!”

Lancer stopped himself, and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. He looked at Berserker again, still clearly angry. “When I obtained this power, I became something beyond human. If you wield that kind of power, you are labelled as one of two things. If you fight against humanity, you are a monster. If you fight  _ for _ them, you are a god. I did not make myself a god.  _ They _ made me a god, and I served them as such.”

Berserker let out a disdainful laugh. “Really? Oh, I take it all back. I can see just how much you’ve  _ sacrificed _ with those temples they built in your honor. And all the tributes and feasts they devoted to you, oh I can just  _ tell _ how well you served them. Don’t try to disguise your thirst for power as anything but.”

“Well, since you seem to know everything there is to know about the situation, what would  _ you _ have done?”

Berserker stamped his foot, sending a shockwave that cracked the pavement beneath him. “ _ Correct them! _ Refuse their offerings, and rebuke their tributes! Don’t act as if being made a god is somehow difficult to prevent! They made an assumption about what you were, and you simply sat there and let them keep on believing that!”

Lancer clenched his fists, his face having grown angrier over the course of Berserker’s rant. “You have no idea what it is I’ve had to give up for the sake of humanity. To never be considered an equal? To never again be able to sit at the same table as others because they deem themselves unworthy? That loneliness that comes with power? Power I could not forsake if I wanted to protect my people?  _ I have made sacrifices, and you will not mock me, nor the people that followed in my footsteps! _ ”

Lancer’s aura exploded, surrounding him in a shining blue gleam that tore apart the suit he had been wearing and replaced it with his true outfit.

Berserker merely looked on, unflinching.

Lancer was shirtless, exposing the runic tattoos on his body. His right arm was covered in black armor, and a bracer on his left forearm was made of the same material. His legs were similarly armored, but he also had on a fur-lined waist cape hanging from his belt, which went down to his ankles and was colored a deep blue, with white ornate designs on it. His belt itself had a symbol emblazoned on the front of it which Berserker had seen before. The giveaway to his identity.

Emblazoned on his belt was the Triple Horn of Odin.

Berserker smirked. “I thought that was you. You’re supposed to be missing an eye, elder god.”

Lancer reached out his hand, calling his spear to it. “And you’re supposed to be a wise king, capable of solving disputes with words. I guess neither of us have yet grown into who we’re famous for being.”

Berserker laughed. “Speak for yourself. If I truly am meant to be the ‘Wise King of Athens’, then I’ve evolved past that. I am more powerful now than I ever was in legend.”

“Nothing can be greater than their legend. Not even one that’s called a god.”

“Well it’s a good thing I’m no god, then. I am what you’d call a hero, whose job is to slay both gods and monsters alike for the sake of humanity,” Berserker boasted, getting into his fighting stance once more.

Lancer, strangely enough, smiled. He spun his spear around himself before getting into his own stance. “Oh yes, I remember now. How foolish I was to forget the futility of trying to reason with a Berserker.”

Berserker pushed off his sidewalk, closing the distance between himself and Lancer immediately before throwing out three swift strikes. Lancer blocked all three before sneaking in a kick that sent Berserker skidding back.

Lancer came at Berserker from above, throwing another downward kick at Berserker, who blocked it with his forearm. Lancer quickly followed up with a strike from his spear, which Berserker batted away with his other arm.

Mana surged into the spear, and Berserker saw it unnaturally bend, twisting into Berserker’s shoulder and causing a gash to appear. Reflexively, Berserker tried to grab the spear, but it switched back into its rigid, straight self, avoiding his hand. With Berserker distracted, Lancer slammed another kick into Berserker’s face that launched himself backwards in the air.

Berserker shot forward again, crashing into Lancer and sending the both of them careening into the building that Lancer had once stood under. Lancer let himself fall back onto the floor, letting Berserker press forward over him.

Lancer reached forward and drew a rune onto Berserker’s chest, which glowed blue for an instant before it disappeared. A rush of air suddenly slammed into Berserker, rocketing him upwards into the roof and causing him to crash through it into the floor above him.

Lancer spun, getting back onto his feet before launching himself at Berserker again, swinging his spear rapidly. Berserker saw the onslaught of strikes coming, and did his best to block or redirect them, but even strikes that missed seemed to turn and hit him anyway, like before.

Lancer finished his assault with another kick that sent Berserker flying across the room they were in. Berserker went tumbling end over end as he smashed through the wall and into the hallway, getting lodged into the opposite wall.

Berserker freed himself from the wall and looked over at Lancer, who was walking slowly out of the room they had been in. Berserker got back into his fighting stance, wincing at the pain from the various wounds he had received over his arms and sides.

“Well, if I had any doubts before, they’ve been dispelled. That spear of yours is obviously Gungnir. A spear that can hit the enemy, regardless of the wielder’s skill...” Berserker smirked.

Lancer gave a curt laugh. “This spear is not Gungnir. I received Gungnir much later, from the dwarves. This is the spear I received from Yggdrasil as a symbol of my contract, though many believe it to be Gungnir. It can’t create runes or nullify magic, like Gungnir can, but it is the basis of the legend of Gungnir, so I suppose it could be considered it’s prototype. It must have been retroactively been given roughly the same abilities as Gungnir because of that fact.”

Berserker launched forward, but Lancer had been ready for him, slamming him to the side with the flat end of the spear. Berserker was sent down the hallway, though he landed on his feet.

Berserker charged forward again, dodging under Lancer’s swipe of his spear - which then bent and stabbed into Berserker’s back. Berserker pressed forward, throwing a hard right straight at Lancer’s head, but Lancer moved his head slightly, dodging it. Berserker opened his hand and stepped back, grabbing onto the back of Lancer’s head, twisting his hips and switching the direction he was facing. Berserker gave a massive grunt as he slammed Lancer into the ground head-first.

Berserker immediately followed by winding up a kick and blasting Lancer like a soccer ball, rocketing him down the hallway and causing him to crash through the wall at the end of it. Berserker started to run after him.

_ Dammit… that spear of his keeps getting hits in whenever we’re close… but it also doesn’t seem like he specifically aims it. That last attack of his hit my back instead of my neck or some other vital area. It must be an automatic process that simply redirects to the closest part of the enemy, without distinction. I can potentially control where it hits me, but I still need to try and finish this quickly. _

An image of Chiaki grabbing her head before running off flashed in his mind. He didn’t know what that was about… but he knew it wasn’t good. He was no good with comforting people. All he could do was reassure them that he would succeed in whatever it was he was going to do… but he was pretty sure that wasn’t what Chiaki was worried about.

He also remembered that this was the first time he was fighting at full strength since he became Chiaki’s servant.

_ Chiaki, are you doing alright? Are you withstanding the more severe mana upkeep? _

_ Don’t worry about me _ , she responded,  _ Focus on defeating Lancer. This isn’t really as bad as I had thought it was going to be. _

Berserker smiled. She really was a good liar.

Berserker barely had time to react before Lancer bolted out of the hole he had been in, storming at Berserker with his spear pointed directly at him.

Berserker jumped over his stab, letting the spear twist upwards and hit his foot. Berserker threw out his other foot in a kick, though Lancer twisted, dodging the attack and backing off.

_ He’s not letting me trap his spear like last time. I figured he wouldn’t fall for it twice. _

Berserker steadied himself before charging at Lancer again, throwing out a massive barrage of jabs. Lancer started to backtrack, rotating his spear and blocking as many hits as he could. Lancer landed heavily on his back foot.

_ He’s about to counterattack… that means- _

Berserker saw his opening. He moved in, ducking around the spear and throwing a hard elbow directly into Lancer’s jaw, bashing Lancer into the side of the hall.

Berserker moved to press his attack, but Lancer quickly reached out, revealing a sigil in his hand which glowed with energy before exploding into a ball of pure light. Berserker took the force of it head on, being thrown backwards through yet another wall and into another room.

That was the first major blow Berserker had taken. Lancer had been able to cut him up pretty good, but all of his strikes had been pretty superficial, causing pain, but not doing any real damage. That rune, on the other hand, was a pretty powerful direct hit.

Berserker recovered quickly and moved to re-enter the hallway. In an enclosed space like that, Berserker had the advantage since Lancer’s mobility could only get him so far, and his spear was unwieldy in such a place. If Berserker could keep the pressure up with his punches, he could get enough good hits in to finish this relatively quickly.

“You’re fighting a lot smarter than I had expected, Berserker. Perhaps there’s room for you to become that wise king after all,” Lancer spoke as Berserker stepped back into the hallway. Lancer spat out some blood. “Using the battlefield to your advantage truly is wise.”

Berserker scoffed. “Calling common sense ‘wisdom’? I suppose you’re so used to everyone around you saying even the most obvious of things are ‘wise’ so long as it comes from your mouth. You’re just not used to someone else outsmarting you.”

Lancer blinked and gave a small chuckle, wiping some blood off his chin. “I said your strategy was wise, not that  _ you _ were wise. I let myself get cornered in here because I wanted to beat you at your own game. I had been assuming you would simply try to overpower me with your superior strength.”

Lancer grinned, showing his teeth. “But now I see that your game includes strategy, too. This fight just got a lot more fun.”

Berserker glowered, keeping himself ready.

Lancer straightened up, flipping his spear and resting it on his shoulder. “You shouldn’t have gotten so cocky, Berserker. If you had let me get ahead a little, I’d have thought of your victories as mere strokes of luck and continued fighting as I had been. But you’ve revealed your hand to me, now.”

“Heh. Let you get ahead? Like letting you out of this hallway and lose my advantage?”

“Advantage? You think you had me trapped here?”

Lancer reached over and drew a symbol on himself, near his neck. It connected with the rest of his runic body tattoo. The glowing sigil on his neck caused the rest of his body tattoo to slowly, but surely, light up with the same blue glow. After a few moments, his tattoo glowed in it’s completeness.

Lancer twirled his spear, and the hallway tore itself apart.

“I cannot be trapped in a prison of mere  _ cardboard _ .”

Before Berserker could process what was happening, he found himself whirling around, tearing through wall after wall. He wasn’t sure which way was up and which way was down. He tried to reach out and stop himself, but he couldn’t. A blue flash rushed by him and he found himself whirling in a different nonsensical direction. Berserker blinked, and realized he had more cuts on himself, and wasn’t sure where they had come from.

His world came to terrifying and sudden halt. Berserker took a moment to process what he was seeing. They appeared to be in a cafeteria of some kind. The place had been completely destroyed somehow. Berserker and Lancer were facing one another. Berserker looked down and saw Lancer’s spear piercing directly through his gut.

Berserker tried to say something, but blood spilled out of his mouth instead.

“Sh… shit…”

Lancer withdrew his spear, sending a wave of pain through Berserker, causing him to fall to his knees.

“Do you understand how large the difference is between a god and a hero now?” Lancer asked, looking down at him.

Berserker wavered for a moment. He smirked. “I already knew the difference. I’ve known the difference for a long time. But that doesn’t change anything,” Berserker chuckled, getting to his feet.

Lancer regarded him, a strange look on his face. “You really are just like him…”

_ This is the way it should be, _ Berserker thought, smiling to himself.

Berserker suddenly felt a wave of mana. At first, he thought it was from Lancer, but then he realized it was coming from somewhere else. Berserker eyes’ widened.

_ Chiaki, you can’t…! _

_ I have to… you’re going to die. _

_ If you use that, Lancer will kill you! _

_ Heh… I’d like to seem him try. Now listen, servant. By order of Command Seal, fight beyond your limits, and claim victory! _

Berserker’s body suddenly was fueled with more Mana than he had ever known. A reddish glow permeated his skin. Lancer surged forward, attacking with his spear.

_ Huh. I can see you now, _ Berserker realized. His hand reached out and grabbed the spearhead before it reached him. Blood seeped out from his enclosed hand, but the spear’s advance was halted.

Lancer pulled his spear back and twisted, throwing a combo of attacks that Berserker started swatting away easily. Even when the spear twisted and hit him anyway, it didn’t seem to be able to cut as deeply.

Berserker smiled to himself. “Alright, you bastard. Let’s finish this.”

Berserker threw a punch at Lancer, who twisted around it, returning with a stab at Berserker’s face. Berserker lifted up his hand, letting the spear pierce it. Berserker immediately launched his other hand into a punch, which Lancer tried to dodge, but Berserker had limited his movement by grabbing onto the spear with his pierced hand.

The blow landed squarely on Lancer’s face. It forced him backwards, launching him into and through the next wall. Berserker leapt after him, intending to press his advantage, but Lancer suddenly moved quickly, throwing out a slash with his spear that nicked Berserker’s cheek, then quickly flipping away, creating distance between the two of them.

The two simply stood there for a moment, sizing up each other's newfound power.

The new room they were in was large, and had no windows or lights on. The only illumination came from Lancer’s blue glowing tattoos, and Berserker’s golden Ariadne Thread and glowing red aura.

The moment came to an end, and they charged at one another. Berserker made the first attack, throwing an uppercut that Lancer swiftly dodged, and following up with a wide right hook that Lancer ducked. Lancer sprung up, flipping over Berserker’s head and slicing down at him, which Berserker let cut into his forearm a bit before thrusting his arm, forcing Lancer back through the air.

Berserker was instantly on him again, throwing his entire body into a titanic punch. Lancer, seeing Berserker coming, held out his spear, letting the blow strike the haft. The shockwave sent outwards rocked the foundation of the building, shattering windows and cracking the walls.

Berserker stepped in closer, moving like a boxer. Berserker lobbed several arcing punches at Lancer, trying to get through his defense. Lancer, likewise, managed to block all of them. Lancer then spun, throwing his strength into a slash, but since Berserker was so close, he only hit Berserker back with the haft.

Berserker let himself be pushed back, landing on his back, but he sprung up immediately, his back barely having touched the ground. He moved quickly, closing in on Lancer who tried another slice at him, but Berserker slipped around it, gliding around Lancer seamlessly and wrapping his massive arms around Lancer’s waist.

Berserker gave a loud war cry, lifting Lancer off his feet and suplexing him into the ground, shaking the earth. Berserker flipped over Lancer, still holding on to him, and placing his feet on the ground. He gave another cry and suplexed him a second time. Berserker flipped over Lancer one more time, locking his feet into the ground before bellowing a third war cry, suplexing Lancer into the earth a third and final time. The earth trembled, and the walls and roof of the building started to break apart and come down on them.

Lancer spun, smacking Berserker away with the cyclone of his legs before he flipped to a standing position. He used his momentum to throw his spear out at Berserker, who barely dodged it. Lancer took the opportunity to press in on the briefly distracted Berserker, throwing out a combination of punches and kicks. Berserker, taken by surprise, was hit by the first few, but began to easily block the next several.

He got his arms on the inside of Lancer’s and threw them wide, leaving Lancer defenseless. Berserker then brought his arms back in and smashed both sides of Lancer’s head with open palms, causing Lancer to be staggered.

Lancer recovered quickly and held out his hand, calling his spear back to it. Berserker rolled to the side, avoiding it as it flew through the air. A large piece of concrete landed between them. Neither of them broke their gaze with one another.

Berserker and Lancer lunged at one another again, trading blows and dodging back and forth, clashing and then separating as the building crumbled around them. Each time they collided, mana sparks would fly off the point of impact, exploding outwards and causing even more damage.

They began to fight upwards, moving to higher levels of the building even as it continued its inevitable and chaotic descent downwards. Once at the top, they clashed once more, causing a huge ripple in the air that completely decimated the building beneath them, leaving only rubble and a cloud of dust.

Berserker suddenly threw out a kick in the middle of the air, straight up into Lancer’s jaw, catapulting Lancer into the sky. Berserker let himself fall back down towards the ground, but righted himself as soon as he landed and launched at Lancer as Lancer began to fall back down.

Lancer, seeing him coming, drew a rune in the air which then turned into a blue orb of energy and whizzed at Berserker, turning itself to match his trajectory. Berserker raised his arms and let the orb hit him, powering through the resulting explosion and continuing towards Lancer.

Lancer spun his spear so that he was holding it backwards. Mana ran through it, but by that time, Berserker was already upon him. He lifted his fists together above his head and then cracked them together into Lancer, hurtling him into the ruins of the building and causing a massive impact with the ground. Berserker kept an eye on him, and as he began to fall back to the earth, he aimed directly at where Lancer was.

“Now tell me again, god, of the power you had to ‘forsake’ your humanity for!” Berserker roared, sticking his legs out, aiming at the crater where Lancer was.

Berserker suddenly felt the massive surge of mana that had once filled him sputter out.

“Oh, you’ve gotta be kidding me…” Berserker grumbled to himself. Lancer exploded out of the rubble, blasting off towards Berserker.

Again, Berserker wasn’t sure of what was happening, but he figured it was a result of Lancer knocking him around a bit. After a whirlwind of movement, Berserker found himself dizzily laying face-down on the ground. Berserker struggled to his feet, looking around and seeing Lancer standing on a few blocks of rubble above him, staring down as the moon caused his silhouette to grow darker, though his tattoos were still illuminated.

“I was wondering what the hell you were doing. I see now you must’ve thought that your little power up would’ve lasted longer? My full body runes are active as long as I have mana, but you’re Command Seal infused form is only a set amount of power you can access before it dries up - which you did quite quickly, fighting as you did. Regardless, that form wouldn’t be enough to defeat me. You could match me like that, but you were far from exceeding me in power.”

Berserker kept his face calm and composed, staring up at Lancer the same way he would stare at any beast.

Lancer reached up and rubbed his chin. “Though I have to wonder if you really are in as much of a pickle as I think you’re in. The second you received that power up, you completely threw aside any real strategy and started acting as I thought you would from the beginning of the fight. Question now is whether or not you just got ahead of yourself, or you actually took my advice and let me ‘get ahead’.”

Berserker grinned up at him. Unfortunately, Lancer was right about him overestimating himself. He got so caught up in his newfound power, that he didn’t take the time to think about how best to use it while he had it. He didn’t want Lancer to know that, of course, but he saw no reason to not let Lancer believe that it was his plan all along. It would make Lancer more cautious, and give Berserker some more room to maneuver.

Maneuver into  _ what _ was the question now. Berserker didn’t really have any other tricks up his sleeve, except his Noble Phantasm… if it came down to it, he would use it. He’d have to, in order to win. But that also meant that Chiaki would be put into far more pain than she was now. Hell, it might even kill her.

_ No. There has to be a way that I can finish this without using that. Think, damn you! _

That form of Lancer’s was the problem. Berserker had the advantage in close-quarters combat, even if Lancer was faster than him, but with Lancer’s runic form, he lost that edge. He didn’t want to request Chiaki use another Command Seal, and frankly, it wouldn’t do a whole lot of good if it didn’t last longer than that form of Lancer’s…

_ Hold on, he said that form would last as long as he had mana. Which means that it can eventually run out - I just have to drain him of mana. _

The sound of the seawaves came to his ears.

Berserker grinned wider. Never before had he been so glad he didn’t actually kill an enemy when he thought he had. With Rider still around, that water was still cursed. The next obstacle was getting Lancer  _ into _ it.

“Well? Why not come down here and see just what I’ve got in store?” Berserker taunted.

Lancer continued thinking for a moment. “Hmm. I see. You’re just bluffing.”

Lancer disappeared and reappeared in front of Berserker, kicking him backwards. Berserker kept his foot on the ground, causing a long line to get carved into earth.

_ Alright, let’s see if this works. _

Berserker turned himself, getting into a wrestling position. With this position, Lancer should come from either behind or from the side. Berserker took a step back, letting Lancer see his defensive walls, and simultaneously increasing defense on the side that he  _ didn't _ want Lancer to attack him on.

Unfortunately, Lancer came from behind him and sent him forward with his strike.

_ With an attack like that he’d probably attack from- _

Berserker rolled and immediately got to his feet, striking at where he thought Lancer was attacking from. Lancer easily dodged the attack, but stopped his own attack, backing off.

_ Interesting. He knows I’m up to something. That talk of me bluffing earlier was to try and get me lulled into a false sense of security. If I weren’t about to utterly humiliate him, I’d say he would be a tough opponent to outsmart. _

Berserker observed Lancer’s stance for a moment. With that stance, he could convincingly attack from one of three directions. Of course, with his increased speed with that runic form, he could easily switch and attack from various others. Berserker needed Lancer to think that he had successfully countered Berserker’s attack.

_ Of course, he would know that my own attack is a counterattack because I have lower speed. Lancer is going to try and bait me into counterattacking again, and then score his hits. Which would probably mean… _

Berserker struck a variation on his pankration stance that opened him up slightly on one side. Lancer bolted forward, and Berserker threw his arms wide, attempting to narrow the position of where Lancer could attack from. Immediately after, without checking Lancer’s position, Berserker lifted his back leg off the ground, attempting to give Lancer the impression he was about to kick backwards.

Berserker saw Lancer disappear, and before he knew where Lancer was attacking from, he shifted his weight backwards, landing on his raised back foot and exploding the pent up power in his front leg.

He felt it land heavily, and saw Lancer flying backwards through the air, in an arc, like he wanted. Lancer flipped and slowed his journey backwards by dragging his spear along the ground.

Berserker smiled to himself as he stood up straight. His plan went better than he had expected it to.

Lancer stood up as well, both hands on his spear.

“Hey, I’ve got a question,” Berserker suddenly spoke.

Lancer, surprised, though still looking quite calm, tilted his head and arched his eyebrow. “What?”

“You completed that full body runic tattoo by just drawing the last bit on your neck. That means you just have to finish the rune in order to make it work, right?”

Lancer blinked. “That's what you want to know?”

“Well, I saw a book of runes once, I was just wondering if there was some kinda special trick to it.”

Lancer sighed. He planted his spear into the earth. “Are you stalling? Fine then. It won’t change anything. Yes, I just have to finish the design for it to activate, but it has to be laced with mana.”

Berserker slowly nodded. “Like from your spear?”

Lancer chuckled, twirling his spear and getting into a fighting stance. “It would accomplish it, yes.”

Berserker nodded. “Good to know. That seems to meet up with how the book said it worked, but I just wanted to make sure. Speaking of, that rune there…” Berserker replied, pointing.

Lancer looked down at himself. “My full body rune?”

“No. The one on the ground.”

Lancer looked around himself, clearly not seeing it. “Are you trying to distract me?”

“Sure am. But what I’m talking about is the one I started with the first line, and you finished with the second.”

Lancer’s eyes widened. The first line that Berserker had carved into the earth had coincidentally met up with the one that Lancer had carved with his spear.

The giant rune began to glow blue, finally activating.

“Now remind me… this is the rune for ‘big fireball’, right?”

Lancer looked up at Berserker, an agitated look on his face. “You fool.”

The rune activated, erupting the entire area into a massive inferno.

Berserker turned and began to run. If he could at least get  _ close _ , that would be enough. He could figure out how to get Lancer in the water once there, but he at least needed to get  _ close _ to the water.

Berserker broke clear of the flames, making a beeline for the beach. His body was still on fire, and the pain was excruciating, but he forced his arms and legs to continue pumping, cracking the pavement of the street and sending sand everywhere as he made it to the water’s edge - the very act of running here so quickly putting out most of the flames on his body.

Lancer suddenly appeared in front of him, completely unaffected by the flames. Berserker tried to plow straight through him, but Lancer stuck out his spear, impaling Berserker on it, and halting Berserker’s charge.

“Dammit… so… close...”

Lancer shook his head. “I really expected a bit more from a man who talked so highly of himself. Did you really think my own runes would affect me?”

Berserker gritted his teeth, but more blood came spilling out his mouth, past those teeth. Berserker coughed up some more blood.

Lancer didn’t smile. “Don’t try to speak. It will only end badly for you.”

Berserker looked up at Lancer and smiled. “There you go… underestimating me again… like I’m a mere ant you can…  _ crush _ at your leisure.”

Berserker steadied his feet. “I’ve faced people... like you before, Lancer. I’ve even faced g-… gods.”

Berserker let his hands loosen, getting ready. “I’ll not give in. Not this time. Not against you!” Berserker roared.

He pushed forward, further impaling himself on Lancer’s spear, but bringing the two of them closer. Blood shot from Berserker’s back as the spear exited out his other side, but Berserker pressed forward. Berserker wrapped his arms around the surprised Lancer before he could react and jumped forward, bringing the both of them into the water.

Lancer’s eyes widened as he felt the crushing effect of the curse. Berserker let him go and then kicked him back, sending him a ways away from the beach. Berserker winced as the spear left him, but he pushed through the pain and turned back, exiting the water and stepping onto the beach once again.

Berserker began to chuckle to himself.

_ No way he’s done. He’ll be out in no time. Need another strategy… _

But he had trouble focusing. Perhaps his temporary victory was keeping him too happy. More likely, that last blow was still causing his head to swim with pain. He slapped himself.

“Come on, now. You aren’t done yet…” Berserker told himself, slapping himself harder. It seemed to work, and his mind refocused.

Suddenly, an explosion broke the water behind him. Light blinded Berserker when he turned to see, and he felt speckles of water coming down on him, like it was raining.

When the light cleared, Lancer was standing on the edge of the beach, his tattoo sputtering out, like a failing lightbulb. He was breathing heavily.

“Damn you… you are a tricky son of a bitch, aren’t you?”

“I try. Not feeling so hot, now?”

Lancer smiled, giving a sinister chuckle. “Don’t get ahead of yourself. I may have lost the mana to keep up with this form, but I’ve wounded you far more than enough to settle this easily.”

“I don’t think so. Disregarding the blatant waste of mana you just used to clear that water with your Noble Phantasm, I still have more than enough strength to keep up.”

Lancer let out a laugh. It was higher pitched than Berserker had expected. Lancer was coming slightly unhinged. “I just  _ impaled _ you. And besides, I’ve been slicing you up this entire fight. Not a single one of my strikes has missed the opportunity to cut you with help from Gungnir Proto.”

“Now who's getting ahead of themselves? I impaled  _ myself _ . And as far as you ‘slicing me up’ goes, not a single one of them has had any real effect on me.”

Lancer faltered. He quickly seemed to be recuperating from his unhinged state. He was thinking.

“No… effect?”

“Sure. I’ve been redirecting all your strikes to non-vital areas. You might have landed two or three good hits this entire fight, more than enough for me to overcome.”

Lancer looked shocked. “But that's… brilliant…”

“Sure is. Wish I could take credit for it, but it was actually invented by a mighty warrior of this past century named Muhammed Ali. Read about him recently in a magazine.”

Lancer closed his eyes and pinched his nose, taking a moment to get his breathing under control. He opened his eyes, looking at Berserker, returning both hands to his spear.

“You have my respect, Berserker. But do you think that that runic form was my only ace?”

“I don’t want your respect. And no, I know you and I have quite a ways to go before this is settled.”

Lancer got into his pose once more, as did Berserker. “Well then, we best get started.”

Suddenly, a dark-skinned man in a red cloak dropped in between them. He pulled a rifle from under his cloak and pointed it at Berserker in one hand, and pulled a bayonet in his other, pointing it at Lancer.

“Actually, the two of you are gonna stop fighting now and part ways,” Remia interjected, walking onto the beach and joining his servant with his gun drawn.

“Remia? What the hell are you doing?” Lancer asked.

“Well, lemme ask  _ you _ a question, Lancer - that building you just destroyed… do you have any idea what it was?”

Berserker stopped. That was a very valid question, and Berserker was ashamed to admit that he didn’t know. Lancer, too, was silent.

“No idea? Then let me fill you in. It was a school. And if you two weren’t so focused on provin’ your point of view over the other guy, you mighta realized there were still custodial personnel in the building. Don’t worry, Archer and I managed to pull ‘em out of there and bandage ‘em up before you lit the whole place on fire, but it was mighty close. So allow me to rephrase all this into a much more succinct form: What the hell are  _ you _ doing?” Remia continued.

Berserker and Lancer stayed where they were for a few moments, simply looking at Archer and Remia. Berserker heard footsteps, and turned to see Chiaki on the sidewalk, coming towards them.

“I have… to beat him. Tohsaka said I could, in order to-”

“Well, frankly, if this is what she had in mind, she’s far more evil than I gave her credit for. I don’t give a damn whether the two of you or your respective Masters are ready to throw your lives into big, world endin’ battles, but leave all the innocent people who never asked for such a thing out of it. I dunno if you realized, but we have at least  _ one _ servant in this war who murders civilians like he’s poppin’ candy. I was hopin’ that he was the only one. If either of you’d like to prove me wrong, I’d be glad to wipe your ass off the face of the Earth myself right here and now,” Remia ranted.

Lancer and Berserker were both quiet for a few moments. Remia was right, and both of them knew it.

“This fight… is over,” Berserker eventually spoke up.

“For now,” Lancer added. Berserker nodded.

Remia and Archer just watched as Lancer disappeared into spirit form, and Berserker turned, going to meet Chiaki.

* * *

There was a bench at the bus stop that allowed people to sit while they waited for their bus. Berserker sat on this bench, and it slightly bent under his weight. Chiaki sat next to him, trying to patch up the wounds she could. Berserker was leaning forward, his hands folded together and his elbows resting on his knees.

Chiaki hadn’t gotten very far around the corner before they had started their fight. Once Berserker had started fighting at his fullest, she felt such a terrible strain on her that she could hardly move. She didn’t feel the pain that she thought she would, but the sheer amount of mana that was moving through her was massive. For the first time, she felt what it was like to have a high-ranking servant fight for her.

She couldn’t worry about how much mana it ate up right now… she could worry about that later. Right now, she was focused on taking care of Berserker.

“Are you sure your string will recover?” Chiaki asked, cleaning up a few scratches on his arm. Lancer’s spear had sliced the Ariadne Thread in a few different places, severing it and causing strands to fall a few different ways, though it wasn’t close to being undone entirely.

“Yeah, it should be fine. Once I dematerialize into spirit form, it’ll regenerate naturally. I’m pretty sure the effect stays with the largest piece. So as long as I have the entire thread with me, even if its chopped up, it should work,” Berserker replied, keeping his eyes on the sky.

Chiaki continued in silence.

Berserker suddenly chuckled. “I know, I know. I don’t need  _ you _ chewing me out, too.”

Chiaki looked up at Berserker with a furrowed brow. “I wasn’t gonna start pestering you. I don’t think I could’ve done much better.”

“Not you.  _ Him _ ,” Berserker explained, pointing up into the sky.

Chiaki looked and saw the constellation of stars, forming the shape of the constellation Sagittarius. “That’s right. I forgot that Chiron was a famous teacher of heroes. Guess that must be where you got all your fighting skills from, huh?”

“Eh. He taught me wrestling and pankration. Everything else I figured out on my own. Never really had patience for the old man or his lessons…” Berserker’s voice trailed off.

“So is it all authority you have a problem with, or is it just gods?” Chiaki asked, turning back to Berserker.

Berserker turned his head to her suddenly, but Chiaki kept her gaze steady. More and more, Chiaki had gotten the feeling that there was more to Berserker than he was saying. Instead of stewing about it, from now on, she was going to call him out on it. Simply ask, if something confused her.

Berserker’s own gaze was profound and studious, as if he were searching for the answer to Chiaki’s question somewhere in her face. He eventually blinked and turned back to the night sky.

“You ever heard of the story of Pandora’s Box?” Berserker asked.

“Of course. It was a box given to Pandora by the gods, but she was instructed to never open it. She was very curious, so she opened it anyway, and it unleashed all the horrible things that humans have to experience like famine and stuff like that.”

Berserker waited a moment. “That’s it?”

“Well, no… there was ‘hope’ left in the box, so that all of humanity would have the strength to continue through the terrible times that lay ahead of them.”

Berserker nodded. “A lot of people in this era misunderstand that story. It’s an old story, even being told to children in Ancient Greece as a legend. Think about this, Chiaki - if the evils of the world were all contained in the box, and the opening of said box allowed humans to experience those evils, why would leaving hope in the box be a good thing? It would leave humans unable to experience that hope and ‘have the strength to continue’, as you said, wouldn’t it?”

Chiaki thought for a moment. “I guess… I always figured it was a symbolic thing.”

“It was. Just not in the way you or most people of this era thought. Hope wasn’t seen as a good thing in Ancient Greece. If you were a human, you didn't have control over your own destiny. You were a tool to be used by the gods, either raised up or destroyed as they saw fit, and if you tried to resist the fate they laid out for you, only suffering awaited. And hope? Hope was merely an unnecessary cruelty, one that made people wish for things that would never come true.”

Berserker stood up, moving away from Chiaki. “Hope stayed in the box because it was the greatest evil of Ancient Greece. That’s the world I grew up in, Chiaki. A world without hope - deemed such because attempting to resist the will of the gods was unthinkable, much less doable.”

Berserker looked down at his hand, closing it into a fist. “I was never told the story of Pandora’s Box as a child. When I asked my father - that is, the man who raised me - why he never told it to me, he answered ‘because you are more than human’. I always hated that. I know he wanted a better life for me, and being a demigod allowed me to have it, but… I hated having to leave the rest of humanity behind just so  _ I _ could have that better life. I decided there, that even if I was ‘beyond’ humanity, I would never be ‘above’ them. I would always fight for them. For their survival, for their families, for their dreams.”

He looked back at Chiaki. “I wanted to give them a world where they were finally allowed to hope. That's why, with all the strength I can muster, even if I don’t stand a chance against them, I’ll reach up into the heavens themselves, and tear down anyone who dare call themselves a god.”

Chiaki had patiently waited for him to finish speaking, but somewhere along the way she had lost track of what she was going to say. Somehow, with what he had said… it finally all made sense to her. Not Berserker himself, but rather… why she was trying to act so heroic this past night. She was trying to be like him. It wasn’t his beliefs that inspired her, but his resilience in that belief… to do what was right, even if you didn’t have any chance of surviving because of it.

Chiaki couldn’t stop herself from saying what she said next.

“Never tell me I can’t fight by your side again,” Chiaki ordered. Berserker had a look of surprise.

Chiaki felt tears slip from her eyes, and she quickly reached up to wipe them away, returning her attention to Berserker. “I… I know I can never be as strong as you. But even so, I want to be like you. To never have a doubt that I’m doing the right thing. Ever again. Okay? So don’t ever say I can’t fight by your side!”

Berserker was looking at her with a strange look. A part of it was admiration, and the other part… was something else. Could it have been guilt…?

Whatever it was, it disappeared as Berserker gave a sigh and smiled wider. “Well then, if you want to keep up, our combat training starts tonight.”

Chiaki stopped for a moment. “Combat training? Tonight? But… it's so late already.”

“Sure. But you hardly sleep as it is, might as well take advantage of that.”

“I don’t think that’s…”

Berserker cocked his head to the side, looking at her with an arched eyebrow.

Chiaki gave an aggravated sigh. “Alright, I guess we start tonight then.”

Berserker smiled, turning back to spirit form before the bus arrived.


	10. Manga Shop

“Are you sure you wanna do this?” Chiaki asked.

“I should be asking you that. You’ll be in far greater danger than I will,” Berserker replied.

“Well sure, but this plan just seems so… reasonable. I didn’t know if you got offended when people complimented you for being smart or not.”

“Why would I get offended?”

“I dunno, it just seemed like the kind of thing that would happen. Anyway, this whole situation is kinda like you admitting that Lancer was right.”

“No, it’s me admitting  _ Remia _ was right. Lancer believed me to be wise and hiding it. Remia believed me to be not wise altogether. This decision is me attempting to  _ become _ wise.”

“Sounds like the same thing to me.”

“Well, it  _ would _ sound like the same thing to the ears of such an unwise person like you.”

The two had been talking back and forth for quite a while. They had first discussed this meeting last night, after Chiaki’s first training regiment - which she was still somewhat sore from. After having “slept” on it, it didn’t seem like such a bad idea to Chiaki, but she was still concerned. After all, inviting a servant anywhere was a bad idea when you were unsure of their allegiance.

But they had invited them in order to establish their allegiance officially, just so they could understand where and what to focus on in terms of enemies. In addition, forming an alliance against Rider seemed like a smart idea. If they could form an alliance, even a temporary one, they could get more of a hold on this Grail War, and also more efficiently take out rogue Servants like Rider.

To say Chiaki was worried was an understatement, but she knew that Berserker would be able to make the right choice. And so would she, provided they stayed side by side.

“My only question, ‘oh wise one’, is why we’ve decided to have a meeting here of all places,” Chiaki questioned, concealing a yawn and glancing around at the Manga Shop they were in.

“They’ve got a room in the back we can reserve for a private meeting without having to pay money,” Berserker answered, continuing to mull through the shelves of Manga next to him. “Oh! This is one Saber said I should read…”

“Are you serious? You picked this place because Saber recommended it? Isn’t that in and of itself a good reason  _ not _ to do it here?”

“I don’t think so. I can kill two birds with one stone by doing it here. It’s neutral ground, perfect for holding a summit of sorts; it’s a place Saber wanted me to check out; and it’s a good excuse to get you out of the apartment.”

“...That’s three birds.”

“So it’s  _ three _ birds with one stone. I’m doing better than the average.”

“What about the Library? That has a conference room,  _ way _ bigger than the room you got in the back here.”

“Assassin knows that location. I don’t want to risk drawing his attention. Not yet, anyway.”

Chiaki sighed. He made good points, but it just seemed so… so  _ dumb _ to be arranging a meeting between ancient heroes in a Manga Shop.

“Well, as far as getting me out of the apartment goes, you really think that hanging out at a Manga Shop is gonna help me relax?”

“Relaxing has little to do with you just leaving the apartment and enjoying the things around you. You could, for example, ask Archer out on a date.”

“That’s definitely not gonna happen.”

“Not with  _ that _ attitude.”

“I’m surprised you even know what a date is.”

“Why wouldn’t I know what a date is?”

“Because you’re Mr. ‘I had a bunch of sex back in Ancient Greece’.”

“So? Just because I’ve enjoyed my fair share of women doesn’t mean I didn’t hunt down a beast and make them dinner before we got busy.”

Their conversation was silenced as the bell tied to the door rang, signaling the entrance of a new customer. A well-dressed woman in a jacket stepped in, and a man in a dark blue suit came in shortly after her. The two totally looked out of place in the Manga Shop.

The woman audibly sighed. “Of course we’re the first to show up. Alright then, let’s get this over with,” she spoke, rubbing the side of her head. Lancer stayed quiet, keeping his hands in his pockets.

The woman gracefully stepped toward Chiaki, and Chiaki felt Berserker move a bit closer to her. “You’re Chiaki Nakazawa, I presume?” she spoke.

“Uh… yeah. We’ll be meeting in the back room, so… you can go and wait in there.”

The woman nodded and moved past Chiaki and further into the store, Lancer moving with her. Lancer and Berserker locked eyes as he passed, sending a shiver down Chiaki’s spine. Lancer got by without incident, walking after his master.

Chiaki turned to Berserker. “You think you can act any  _ more _ unfriendly?”

Berserker looked down at her. “What?”

“You didn’t greet the Master, and it looked like you and Lancer were about to break into another fight just now. We’re here to ask for their help, remember?”

“Yeah, and what do you want from me?”

“For you to at least try and make them feel semi-relaxed? This is a stressful situation, you could at least greet the next guests with a  _ smile _ or something?”

Berserker groaned and turned back to the shelf he had been combing.

The bell rang again, and a younger looking girl in a short chiffon skirt and a blouse walked in. “Excuse me, is this where all the Masters are meeting?”

Before Chiaki could say anything, Berserker was in front of the girl, taking her hand in his. “It most certainly is. Might I ask what a lovely young maiden such as yourself is named?”

“Oh,  _ absolutely not _ ,” Chiaki interjected, grabbing Berserker and pulling him away from the new arrival.

“What!? I am greeting the new master and helping them feel at home. This is what you  _ told _ me to do,” Berserker protested.

The bell rang again, and Saber came rushing in, dressed in tight black jeans, a white button up, an unbuttoned red vest, and a golden scarf hanging around his neck. In his arms were an assortment of items.

“Loyuffon! There you are. I need you to help me hide these before those bandits find me.”

“Saber, return what you stole,” an older man with a moustache ordered calmly as he walked through the door.

“I stole nothing! I am the rightful ruler of this world, it is my right to liberate  _ my _ goods from whoever attempts to utilize them for their own petty needs.”

He turned, and saw Berserker and Chiaki standing there, staring at them.

“Oh. Hello,” the older man greeted.

“Greetings,” Berserker greeted.

“Uh, hi…” Chiaki greeted.

The girl stepped up to them and extended her hand, smiling. “My name is Trussa Loyuffon. What’s your name?”

Chiaki shook Trussa’s hand before Berserker got the opportunity to step in again. “I’m Chiaki Nakazawa. This is my servant, Berserker.”

“Oh! So  _ you’re _ Berserker. Saber has told me so much about you!”

“Do  _ not _ encourage him,” Chiaki suddenly warned, squeezing Trussa’s hand heavily.

Trussa, still somewhat stunned, was suddenly pulled back by the older man, who had apparently just been outside, returning Saber’s stolen goods before he had re-entered, seeing the scene. “My apologies, miss, but I do not think it is pertinent to be so close to one another just yet.”

“I… actually think that’s a smart idea with this guy around,” Chiaki replied, pointing a thumb at Berserker.

“Mm. I see. Then, may we know where we shall be meeting?”

Chiaki pointed to the room, and stepped back, allowing the entourage to pass through.

“His name is Travick, by the way,” Saber filled in, pointing to the old man.

“See you in there soon,” Berserker said, waving at them.

After they were gone, Berserker looked down at Chiaki. “How was that?”

“Great, except for the part where you were trying to seduce that kid.”

“Kid? She looked to be at least sixteen or so…”

“Yeah, that’s still a kid.”

“Then, aren’t you still a kid? You’re nearly the same age.”

“I’m  _ nineteen _ .”

“Ah, so you’re  _ barely  _ older.”

"I am an adult. Give her two years, and  _ she _ will be an adult, as well.”

“Well, that seems arbitrary…”

“We are  _ not _ talking about this now.”

“Talkin’ ‘bout what?” Remia asked, suddenly revealing himself standing next to them. Chiaki gave out a small yelp, having been startled.

“Man, you get surprised easily,” Remia said, “Good seein’ the both of you again. Sorry I’m a bit late, Archer and I decided to make some coffee for all of us. Figured it’d be a good way to try and smooth things over.”

“See?  _ That _ is how you make people feel welcome,” Chiaki spoke to Berserker, pointing at the coffee. Remia gave a smile, evidently proud of himself.

Berserker blinked. “By introducing a method of which we may intend to poison them?”

Chiaki and Remia both stood there in silence for a while. Archer stepped up next to Remia out of nowhere, holding a large tray of coffee cups and oddly absent from his red cloak, but otherwise in his usual, shirtless, outfit. He leaned over to Remia. “Should I just throw these away, then?”

Remia pinched the bridge of his nose and gave a sigh. “Yeah, I guess so. Seems a waste, after you put in all that effort to make ‘em…”

“I’d like to try some,” Chiaki quickly said before her brain could tell her mouth to stay shut.

Remia and Archer looked at her. “Really?”

Chiaki faltered for a moment under their gaze. “Uh…”

“Why would she say so and not mean it? She’s not so paranoid that she’d think such an upstanding hero like Archer would poison them. Don’t just stand there, hand her a cup, Archer,” Berserker spoke up.

Archer blinked, but reached for a cup and handed it to Chiaki. Chiaki gingerly reached out, and took the cup, slightly touching Archer’s hand as he received it - an act which nearly made Chiaki drop the cup.

“Th-thank you,” Chiaki smiled.

“You are very welcome,” Archer replied, smiling back.

There was a short silence, Chiaki just standing there, smiling at them.

“Well, the meeting room is in there, so go make yourselves at home. We’ll be along shortly,” Berserker suddenly said, pointing to the room.

Remia and Archer nodded. Archer took the trays and suddenly vanished, but Remia turned and walked to the meeting room. The moment they were both out of earshot, Chiaki’s smile dropped.

“What in the actual hell am I doing? I don’t even  _ like _ coffee.”

“Calm down, Chiaki, you’re doing fine.”

“Fine? I’m only doing  _ fine _ !? I’m probably creeping him out!”

“I mean you’re doing great. That smile you gave was lovely and  _ not _ creepy, you just need to actually learn how to say things when the conversation starts to die out.”

“I can hardly say  _ anything _ when he’s not wearing a shirt, much less when the conversation begins to die.”

“...So it  _ is _ the muscles?”

“Berserker!”

“Right, sorry. Alright, you just have to get him to start talking about himself, and the rest will flow naturally.”

“And how do I do that?”

“Um… ask him questions?”

Chiaki blinked.

“...And how do I do that?”

“Oi… relax, Chiaki. It’s easy, just ask him what land he’s from, what he enjoys doing for the hell of it, that kind of thing. If he’s a little on guard, just flirt with him a bit and he’ll loosen up.”

Chiaki blinked.

“...And how-”

“Don’t tell me you’ve never flirted with anyone before?”

“Berserker, I have been spending one-hundred percent of my time after puberty gathering resources to avenge my father, not flirting with guys.”

“I’m getting a better picture of what kind of person I’m dealing with here…”

Lancer cleared his throat, alerting Berserker and Chiaki to his presence. They both whirled, facing him.

“We’re ready whenever you are,” Lancer said simply, turning on his heel and returning to the meeting room.

* * *

Once everyone had taken their seats in the semi-cramped meeting room, Chiaki began.

“Hello... everyone. In case you’re unaware, my name is Chiaki Nakazawa. I’d like to thank you all for considering and accepting my invitation to meet. I called you all here because, as some have noticed, there are Servants in this Holy Grail War that… kill civilians. I propose a truce between the four of us in order to hunt down this servant, and any other that may have similar intentions, and remove them from the war,” Chiaki steadily announced.

Chiaki had practiced this opening line several times this morning. She wanted to appear confident in her abilities to the other Masters. Even though she didn’t really have any power to back her desired attitude, she still wanted them to believe she  _ had _ that power.

“I think that this is a great idea!” Trussa said excitedly, clapping her hands together. Travick, her butler, rubbed his chin, but said nothing.

“Now hold on, Loyuffon, I believe that  _ I _ am the one that makes decisions around here and  _ I _ think that this is a great idea. We should definitely do this,” Saber added.

Trussa nodded vigorously. “Then it’s settled. Saber and I shall join the alliance!”

“If it is a truce,” Lancer suddenly spoke, everyone turning their attention to him, “then that means that after we’ve eliminated Rider, and possibly Caster and Assassin, we all go back to fighting one another?”

Travick spoke next. “I had similar concerns. Just what kind of guarantee do we have this isn’t some trick to take us by surprise?”

“Yes yes, I too, had been considering this. I think this is a terrible idea, we should definitely not do this,” Saber added his opinion, which everyone ignored.

“What kind of guarantee would you need?” Chiaki asked quickly, trying to cull their dissent before it got too out of hand.

“An advantage,” Lancer replied, “Something that we could use against you should you try to betray us.”

“Us, betray  _ you _ ?” Berserker growled. Chiaki put out a hand towards him, stopping him from continuing.

“Pardon me…” Trussa spoke up, “If I might make a suggestion - what about sharing all our servant’s True Names? That way, we would all be on equal footing, right?”

“That would only benefit you. Your servant is easily the weakest of the four here. If you learned the True Names of our three servants, you would have a higher chance of being able to defeat us using strategies against us. However, us knowing your servant’s True Name would change very little considering he would be easily defeated either way,” Lancer’s Master said.

Chiaki wanted to butt in, but she found her words caught in her throat.

Saber looked like he was about to speak up in response to Lancer’s Master’s words, but Remia beat him to the punch. “Listen, this truce may come with risks, but so does  _ any _ truce. It requires no small amount of trust in order to work.”

“Trust that we do not have,” Travick stated.

“We can work together-” Berserker began.

“But for how long?” Lancer interrupted.

“As long as you can keep from trying to kill anyone. It’s not that hard,” Berserker growled, standing up.

“And how do I know you would keep your weapons away from my own Master?” Lancer asked, standing as well.

Chiaki’s nervousness got worse.

“Now, jus’ calm down every-” Remia tried to command, extending his hands out towards them.

“You dare to suggest that I would underhandedly attack your Master?”

“I would suggest that if you  _ really _ gave a damn about fighting for your Master’s wishes, you’d simply finish things with me - not hide away under the guise that you ‘want a truce’.”

“I’ll finish you  _ right now _ .”

Chiaki suddenly stood up. “Stop it! Look at yourselves. There are  _ people _ dying out there, and all you two can do is squabble?”

Berserker and Lancer still stood where they were, looking at each other. Lancer turned his head slightly, looking at Remia, now also standing with Archer beside him.

“Don’t look at me. She said it,” Remia replied, pointing at Chiaki.

Lancer glared at Chiaki, and she did her best not to flinch. Berserker stepped in between the two. “We will fight. Eventually. No matter what happens with Rider or Caster or even Assassin, I promise you, I will crush you at full power,” Berserker stated.

Lancer closed his eyes and took a breath. He sat down. “I apologize. I shouldn’t give in to my anger so easily. Master, your thoughts on the truce?”

Lancer’s Master appeared lost in thought.

“I will take this time to give my own answer,” Travick spoke, standing up. All eyes turned to him.

“We have nothing to gain from this truce, and everything to lose. I will not endanger my-”

“We will join!” Trussa announced, standing up as well. Travick’s closed his eyes and gave an exasperated sigh.

“But young mis-”

Saber was suddenly standing next to her, his hand on her shoulders. “Now, now, Travick, you heard the ‘young mistress’. Follow along, she  _ is _ your Master, after all.”

Travick went to respond, but stopped, looking as if he had just had a revelation. “Dear god… it’s two against one now…”

Remia smirked as the trio calmed down and took their seats once more. “Well, I ain’t gonna speak for Ms. Tohsaka, but if she  _ does _ join up, I will too,” Remia decided, taking off his hat and rubbing the back of his head.

Chiaki blinked.

Did he just say Tohsaka? As in, Sakura Tohsaka, one of the leading mages of the Mage’s Association, as well as the current head of the Tohsaka Family - a family who had partaken in the Holy Grail Wars since their inception?  _ That _ Tohsaka?

Chiaki looked at Tohsaka out of the corner of her eye. She was still sitting there, apparently thinking. But for the first time, Chiaki felt as though she was staring at someone who equalled a servant on their own, despite only being a human.

Tohsaka suddenly looked up. “No. We’ve nothing to discuss here.”

“Ms. Tohsaka-” Remia began.

“You are your own Master, Remia. Do not weigh your own decision on mine. Focus on whatever you’d like, and we shall do the same,” Tohsaka interjected. She stood up, and Lancer stood up after her.

She bowed to them, and turned and left, Lancer following shortly behind her.

* * *

“You’re sure you won’t change your mind?” Berserker asked as Remia and Archer turned to leave down the street.

The various groups all had begun to part shortly thereafter. Saber and his Masters stuck by their decision to ally with Berserker - temporarily, by Saber’s insistence. Archer and Remia, however, had decided not to join, though only after careful consideration.

“Truth is, Ms. Nakazawa, I’d be disingenuous by saying I’d join solely to help out with huntin’ down Rider. I think it’s best we stay separate, at least for now. Don’t mean much, honestly. I think the only time we’ll be meetin’ is if we’re both on the hunt for Rider anyway, and if that’s the case, ain’t no reason to turn on each other then, huh?” Remia explained.

“Yes, I guess so…” Chiaki replied, slightly unsure. She didn’t quite understand what Remia was saying… but it sounded like they were in an alliance without being in an alliance. It didn’t make a whole lot of sense to her at the moment, but she’d be able to sort it out by talking to Berserker, hopefully.

“You spoke admirably this day,” Archer complimented her, bringing her back to the present.

“Hm? I… I did?” Chiaki stammered out, her mind becoming hyper-aware of herself. She instinctively looked to Berserker for help, but saw he was busy talking to Remia a short distance away about something.

“Indeed. You saw through Lancer and Berserker’s childishness and confronted them with it. It was admirable. You are stronger than you look.”

Chiaki was not sure how to respond. “I, I mean, I’m not especially strong-”

“Not strength of body, or of magic, but strength of heart. I see a fire in your eyes.”

“My... eyes?”

“Yes. The window to the soul. And through that window, I see passion - even if you are unsure of what to do with it.”

“Unsure of what to do...”

After the comment about her eyes, Chiaki’s mind had gone into a crisis mode, just repeating back the last words it was capable of registering.

“Chiaki, I have something to ask of you,” Archer suddenly stated, becoming deadly serious.

“...ask?”

Berserker slapped a hand on her shoulder, breaking her out of her trance.

“Well, this was informative. I’m glad we could have this meeting, even if it was unsuccessful in some regards,” Berserker said.

Archer cleared his throat and looked at Berserker. “Indeed. I should be going now.”

Berserker turned his head towards Remia. “You’ll consider what I’ve said?”

“Ain’t really my decision, but I’ll tell him,” Remia replied, turning and walking away as Archer disappeared into his spirit form.

After they had left, Berserker turned back to see Chiaki just covering her face with her hands and shaking her head.

“I am hopeless, and I will die alone.”

“What are you talking about? You talked to him for at least 5 seconds there. And without me, that's an improvement,” Berserker consoled, patting her on the back.

Chiaki just sighed, and removed her hands from her face. “I shouldn’t even be worried about him, and yet I am.”

“Listening to your heart every once in a while is a good thing.”

“If only I could listen to my  _ brain _ when it mattered.”

“You listen to your brain for most of the day, give it a rest.”

Their conversation was interrupted by Saber. “I suppose you’ve forgotten, then?”

Berserker looked over his shoulder and saw Saber there, his arms full of probably stolen Manga.

“Forgotten?”

“Oh yes. You and I have unfinished business.”

Berserker smirked and turned fully to Saber. “Don't be ridiculous, Saber. Once I’ve cleared away the trash that is Lancer, you and I will have our rematch. After all, we just entered into a truce, didn’t we? It would be dishonorable for us to break that vow so quickly.”

Saber blinked. “Oh right, our rematch. I had forgotten. I was actually gonna try and guilt you into hiding these historical texts for me.”

The door behind him opened. “Saber!” Travick called out.

Without another word, Saber was covered in shadows, and he bolted away. Travick and Trussa soon bolted out of the Manga Shop in hot pursuit, Travick with a scowl, and Trussa with a smile.

“You have weird friends,” Chiaki stated.

“You have angry eyebrows.”

Chiaki tried to hit him, but Berserker had already faded into spirit form.

* * *

Sakura stepped in to her study. It had at one time been a Library for the former residents of Old Castle Einzbern, but she now used it as a homebase for herself. It was dark inside, lit only by a single candle on a desk.

“Master,” Lancer spoke, unveiling himself.

“Something you need?” Sakura asked, moving to the desk and slipping her jacket off.

“An answer, if you are willing to give it,” Lancer replied, kneeling down.

“An answer to what?”

“Why did you not stop me? You saw Berserker and I headed towards confrontation… even after I had told you of my foolish actions near the beach last night, you still allowed me to provoke Berserker?”

“May I ask you a question in turn?” Sakura asked, turning and leaning against her desk, folding her arms.

“Of course. You need not ask.”

“Why did you  _ provoke _ Berserker? You speak like you’re ashamed of what you did last night, but you’ve yet to make any improvements to your attitude.”

“I-” Lancer suddenly growled. He was clearly quite agitated, but he stopped himself.

“If I may be frank… I do not know. I hate this. I hate how my blood boils so easily. I hate being some pale imitation of my true self. The Elder God Odin would not be challenged by such hotheadedness.”

“Do you say that because that's how you acted in life, or do you say that because that's what you  _ think _ the Elder God Odin would say?”

Lancer said nothing. Sakura continued. “You are not the fully formed and wise ‘Elder God Odin’. You are a young man, who has yet to become the god known for his wisdom. You’re taken from a point in your life where you are easily provoked, that is all. For all your talk of Theseus not acting like the King of Athens, you and he certainly do share a lot of similarities, don’t you?”

Lancer scoffed. “Superficially, perhaps, but don’t think he and I are  _ anything _ alike.”

Sakura arched an eyebrow at him. Lancer took another deep breath.

“There I go again. I apologize, Master. That man just-”

“I understand. No need to apologize.”

Lancer was quiet for a moment. “If it is alright with you, Master, I would ask you only refer to me as Lancer. I believe the name ‘Odin’ does not quite fit me yet.”

“And what should I call you instead? Isn’t Odin your true name?”

Lancer waited a moment. “If not Lancer… you ought to call me Woden. It is an alternate name for my legend. It feels… familiar, but not quite right, much like myself.”

Sakura nodded. “If that is what you wish.”

“Thank you. I bid you my leave.”

“Not just yet. To answer your question, Lancer, I didn’t stop you from provoking Berserker because I thought that that is what you wanted. I do not want you to leave this war with any regrets.”

Lancer waited, staring at the floor for a moment or two.

“You may leave,” Sakura finished.

“Is it  _ I _ you wish to have no regrets?” Lancer continued anyway, looking up at her. “Or is it that Servant of the past war you wish  _ had _ no regrets?”

Sakura blinked, caught off guard by the question. “I…”

The door to her study opened. “What the hell was that all about?” Remia interrogated as he walked in.

“Master,” Lancer bid his farewell, fading back into spirit form.

Sakura shook her head, refocusing. She looked at Remia. “What?”

“Why didn’t we join that alliance? It helps us learn more, and take out more servants. Hell, I ain’t smart and even  _ I _ thought it was a good idea,” Remia explained. After a moment's consideration, he added, “That sounded better in my head.”

“I said you could join if you wanted to,” Sakura replied, turning and pulling out her chair, sitting in it.

“Yeah, but weren’t that just so nobody’d know we were in cahoots? I figured you’d want me to follow your lead.”

“I suppose we could’ve done a bit more talking beforehand… but I believe that the smart move would’ve been to have one of us on the outside in order to gather more information we don’t  _ have _ to share with the rest of them - like what we have on Caster - while another person is on the inside, gathering intel about Berserker, and Saber, I guess,” Sakura relayed her strategy, beginning to pull out a piece of paper and pencil.

“You expected me to figure that all out? You overestimate my mental faculties.”

“Really? I could’ve sworn you would have figured it out. I guess you’re right then, I should’ve let you in on it… but then again, I doubt you’d’ve liked that plan, considering your usual good samaritanism. Deceiving Nakazawa wouldn’t have sat well with you. I figured I’d leave the choice to you.”

Remia pursed his lips and said nothing for a moment. “I ain’t against deceivin’.”

“No? Good. Then I assume that you’ve opened the door for further collaboration with Berserker and his Master, should you need assistance against Rider or Caster, and at the same time, distanced yourself enough to give the sense that you’re trustworthy. An alliance without being in an alliance, you could say. In any event, that will allow us to potentially gather more info about Berserker’s Noble Phantasms at this point.”

Remia dipped his head, his eyes disappearing under the brim of his hat for a moment. “It’s interestin’ you bring that up, Ms. Tohsaka. I just so happen to have a perfect opportunity to do a little recon. A proposition from Berserker himself that can be used to gather info - not just on Berserker.”

Sakura stopped and turned, looking at Remia directly. Remia spun towards the door and whistled. Archer suddenly appeared before them, wrapped up in his red cloak.

“Yes?”

“Archer, how d’you feel about askin’ a lady out on a date?”


	11. Sunny Days, Ephemeral Nights

Chiaki smoothed out her dress, taking another look at herself in the mirror. It was a turquoise shift dress with a belt and heels. She turned to Berserker, who was sitting on her bed, leafing through a magazine.

“Are you sure about this? Maybe I should… I dunno, wear stockings?”

“The magazine says to choose a single attribute and accentuate it. Stockings might overcomplicate things.”

“Ugh, just give me the magaz-”

“Just wait a moment there. Only  _ I _ can interpret the mystic findings of these four sage fashion experts,” Berserker interrupted, holding out a hand to stop her.

Chiaki, irritated, just turned back to the mirror, ignoring him for the moment. “It seems… too simple? Like I hardly tried, maybe?”

“I believe that's the idea.”

“The idea is to look like I’m not really putting effort into my appearance?”

“The magazine says that appearing to have put in less effort than you actually do is very important. For every twenty minutes you take to get ready, spend at least five of it making it appear as if you only took  _ ten _ minutes to get ready. Understand?”

“Not even a little.”

Berserker sighed. He tossed the magazine to the side. “Listen, Chiaki, it doesn’t matter what these four sages think, nor does it matter, ultimately, what  _ I _ think. You have to think that  _ you _ look good. Pretending to be confident will make you more confident without you realizing it.”

“That’s easy for you to say, your physique is  _ literally _ a step away from a Greek god’s. You’ve never had to worry about love handles.”

“Neither have you, by the looks of it.”

“Berserker,” Chiaki stated, giving him a look through the mirror.

“All I’m saying is that you look good. Archer will think so, too. You should feel sure of yourself. So relax a bit, alright?”

Chiaki took a deep sigh. “I guess you're right. Maybe my makeup could use a few touch ups, though…”

“Just don’t go overboard,” Berserker replied, getting up from the bed and moving to the door.

“Where are you going?” Chiaki asked, glancing at him before returning to examining her face in more detail.

“To get ready,” Berserker explained casually.

“Why? Don’t get me wrong, you should come along, I just assumed you would be in spirit form, so there’s no need to dress up at all.”

“Oh right. I probably should’ve mentioned that this is a double date.”

Chiaki stopped what she was doing and turned to look at him. “I’m sorry?”

“A double date. That’s what Agnes said it was called, anyway.”

“Agnes?”

“The old lady from the clothing store, remember? I promised I’d take her to dinner in exchange for those clothes?”

Chiaki turned to him with a furrowed brow. “How did you get in contact with her? Did you leave at some point?”

“And leave you undefended? I’d never.”

“Sure.”

“I just borrowed your phone,” Berserker explained, continuing out the door and down the stairs.

“My phone? I don’t have a phone, and the apartment didn’t come with one…” Chiaki began, trying to think. Her eyes widened suddenly. She dashed to the door. “Did you use the one in the basement?” she called down to him.   


“Yeah, that one.”

“Berserker, that wasn’t my phone! Why would you even…” her voice trailed off as Berserker exited the stairwell.

_ Dammit _ . _ I’ll have to check and see how much of it he used... _

Chiaki shook her head and turned back to the mirror. Giving herself another look, up and down, she sighed.

_ I shouldn’t have agreed to this. I don’t wanna do this… _

She stopped herself, leaning in towards the mirror and doing her best to give a determined look. “This gonna be a good night, Chiaki. Worry about other things later,” she assured herself.

_ I look angry. These freaking eyebrows make me look ugly. _

Only a moment later, she shook her head. “Yeah, that sure worked.” She turned and walked down the stairs.

* * *

The car screeched to a halt in front of the restaurant.

“There, was that so bad?” Berserker chuckled, getting out of the driver’s seat.

Chiaki, slightly unhinged, let go of the dashboard and the handle on the roof of the car, opening the door. She took a moment to compose herself before stepping out.

“You are the worst driver ever, I nearly died, and we are extremely lucky we weren’t pulled over and arrested,” Chiaki summed up.

“So all in all, a fine ride,” Berserker replied, buttoning his suit up.

“Just be glad Agnes agreed to meet us here. She might’ve had a heart attack had she chosen to have us pick her up.”

“I dunno. You’d be surprised at the vitality an older woman can have.”

“I don’t wanna know.”

“What? It’s a possibility that this date could go really well, you know.”

“Ew. I said I didn’t want to know.”

“And believe me, if that elderly lady is as cheeky as she was back at the clothing store…”

“Please, I am begging you. Stop.”

Berserker cackled as the valet approached them, and Berserker handed off the keys.

“Are you satisfied with your driving experiment, then? Ready to go back to just running everywhere? You're fast enough to be able to outrun a car anyway,” Chiaki changed the subject as she walked around the car and joined Berserker on the sidewalk.

“Not really. Driving a car and running are very different experiences, even if I’m slower in one than the other. And really, if I had to get somewhere fast, I’m more likely to jump there.”

“Jump?”

“Sure, it’s like flying, except not as permanent.”

“That sounds absolutely terrifying.”

“You only say that because you’ve never jumped before. I should take you sometime, now that you’ve shown me driving.”

“Pass,” Chiaki scoffed, moving towards the entrance to the restaurant.

“It’ll be fun, I promise,” Berserker called after her, following shortly.

“Absolutely not interested.”

“You said the same about coming here tonight, and look where we are.”

Chiaki spun around to face him. “The only reason I agreed is because my brain doesn’t work when it comes to Archer because I am far too attracted to him.”

She turned, seeing Archer standing beside the door, just a foot away. Chiaki was frozen.

Archer nodded. “Thank you. You look lovely, as well.”

Berserker came up and gave her a slap on the back, breaking her free of her paralysis. “Y’see? What’d I tell you?”

“I have to admit, I did not expect to see you here. In physical form, anyway,” Archer greeted.

“Yeah, neither did I,” Chiaki half-mumbled.

“Well, turns out, I owe an old gal a favor, so I decided to take her out to eat. It’ll be great, the four of us all having dinner and getting to know one another…”

“We are getting different tables,” both Chiaki and Archer said at the same time.

Chiaki looked at Archer, who glanced her way, compelling Chiaki to look in a completely different direction.

“Alright, fine. But within earshot,” Berserker negotiated.

“Within  _ eyesight _ ,” Chiaki replied, turning to Berserker.

“Deal.”

* * *

Berserker guided Agnes to her seat. Once they had sat down, Berserker began to leaf through the menu.

“You decided to wear the suit,” Agnes commented, glancing at him from her menu.

Berserker looked down at himself and then at Agnes. “Yes, I suppose I did. Does that surprise you?”

Agnes shrugged. “A little, I suppose. Given your usual lackadaisical attitude, I guessed you wouldn’t be comfortable in it.”

“I like it. Makes my shoulders look broad.”

“Not that they needed a suit to look broad,” Agnes chuckled.

“You’re too kind,” Berserker replied.

There was a small lull in the conversation, so Berserker checked on Chiaki, currently looking extraordinarily nervous and speaking with Archer. But she was speaking with him. That’s good.

“Are you related?” Agnes asked.

Berserker turned back to her, seeing her having noticed his turn. “No. We have an… understanding. A contract, you could say. I’m kind of like her bodyguard.”

“Oh, and does she often have need of a bodyguard?”

Berserker rubbed the back of his head. The last thing he wanted was to pull Agnes into this… but he felt like telling her half-truths and whatnot wouldn’t hurt.

“Not often, but she does get into trouble now and then. I’ve been having issues about keeping an eye on her and… well, I should learn to stop that.”

Agnes smiled. “You sound more like a big brother than a bodyguard.”

Berserker gave a laugh. “I wouldn’t know, really. I’m an only child. Well, kind of. I was  _ raised _ alone, at least.” Berserker stopped for a moment, reflecting. He blinked, and looked back at Agnes. “But listen to me, going on and on about myself. What about you? have any siblings?”

Agnes shrugged again. “I’m the eldest of three sisters.”

“Oh, really? As I understand it, the eldest is commonly the most beautiful.”

Agnes gave a small giggle. “Perhaps at one time. Not so much anymore.”

“Nonsense. Beauty is an attitude. A sage fashion expert told me so.”

Agnes gave a slightly larger laugh. “Read many fashion magazines, do you?”

“I had to, since I was helping Chiaki get into the right mindset for this date,” Berserker smirked, giving a thumb over to Chiaki.

Berserker gave another look over to see how she was doing. Chiaki was leaning in, resting on her hands and listening intently to whatever Archer was saying.

“DO YOU NEED SOME HELP?” Berserker called from across the room.

“YOU STAY IN YOUR CORNER!” Chiaki suddenly shouted back, chucking her table’s salt shaker at him before going back to her original pose with a smile as if nothing had happened.

Berserker reached up and plucked the salt shaker from the air before it crashed into the wall. He turned to Agnes. “Salt, milady?” he offered.

Agnes gave a resounding laugh, clapping her hands. “That was incredible! Were you a baseball player at some point?”

Berserker shrugged, giving the salt shaker a flip in the air before setting it on the table. “No, I’ve always just had a natural ability for physical labour. Strength, speed, precision, it was all just… sort of hardwired in to me.”

“You must’ve been an athlete at some point.”

Berserker gave a shrug looking back through his menu. “A little wrestling, a little pan-... uh, boxing. Never really used it competitively, though.”

“Ah, useful skills for all that bodyguarding?”

Berserker looked at her, seeing she was smiling. Berserker’s eyes fell away and he shrugged.

“Forgive me if I sound like I’m prying too much,” Agnes said.

Berserker shook his head. “This is a date, isn’t it? I believe the idea is to get to know one another.”

“If a second date was a possibility, I might believe that. You’re just here to humor an old woman.”

“But a beautiful woman regardless.”

Agnes gave another laugh. “And you humor her well… Really, though, Theseus, I know a man like you isn’t interested in taking things further with me, beautiful or not. I thought from the moment you left that clothing store that I’d never see you again.”

Berserker looked up at her again, setting aside his menu.

“Then why agree to meet me here, if you think I’m wasting your time?”

“I never said you were wasting my time. I enjoy a nice dinner and good conversation as much as the next gal, even if I am paying for it.”

“Bodyguards don’t get paid as well as you might think.”

Agnes just smiled and continued. “My real question, is why  _ you _ called me here? Aren’t you just supposed to be looking after… Chiaki, was it? You said you had trouble keeping an eye on her. I suppose I see why.”

Berserker blinked. He hadn’t thought about that. “I don’t just want to keep an eye on her. I don’t just want to look after myself, either…”

This entire war thus far, he was doing the best he could…

Berserker leaned in slightly, resting his elbows on the table. “Can you keep a secret?”

Agnes leaned in, ear craned his way.

“The truth is-”

The sound of glass shattering came from across the restaurant - near where Chiaki was sitting, from what Berserker could tell. Berserker turned, and saw Chiaki standing, eyes wide, a hand on her chest. She was having trouble breathing again. She turned, and stumbled towards the door.

Immediately, Berserker stood up, pushing aside the waiter that was coming to take their order as he moved towards her.

* * *

Archer and Chiaki took their seats.

Chiaki took a deep breath. This was gonna be fine. This was going to be okay. She just needed to ask him questions about himself and-

“Don’t be nervous,” Archer started, not reaching for his menu.

Chiaki was not prepared for this.

_ He can read me like a fiddle. Play me like a book. No. No! Say something, don’t just sit there and drool! _

She cleared her throat and same the first thing that came to her head.

“You look good.”

Chiaki’s inner monologue noted that complementing your date’s appearance was actually commonplace, so she was off to a good start.

“You said that already. Outside.”

Chiaki was not prepared for this.

“Uh… well… I did. But I wanted to say it again… for emphasis. You look better tonight than you normally do,” Chiaki quickly improvised.

_ You just insulted him. _

“I mean, not that you don’t look good normally, you look good day-to-day too, I mean, I can hardly keep my eyes off you normally and so what I mean to say is like, by comparison, even though you look really good normally, you look even better tonight.”

Archer just blinked, not responding.

“Is what I meant to say,” Chiaki finished.

She was crashing. If she were a plane, she would be crashing hard into a barn full of gasoline and nitroglycerin.

Archer looked to the side for a moment. He adjusted himself in his seat before he looked back. “You know,” Archer spoke, “I can talk for a little bit, if you are too nervous.”

Chiaki felt a wave of relief wash over her. “That would be ridiculously helpful, you have no idea.”

Archer leaned forward slightly. “You know, you remind me of…”

Chiaki, at first, leaned forward as well, thinking it was courteous. Unfortunately, this had the side effect of her bringing her face much closer to his. They were still more than a foot apart, but now that she was closer, she could more easily see his strong and sharp jaw… those wonderful cheekbones… she could get lost in his warm brown eyes…

“DO YOU NEED SOME HELP?” Berserker shouted from across the restaurant, breaking her from her trance. Slightly annoyed, she took the actions which allowed her to resume her original course of action as soon as possible.

This resulted in her instinctually picking up the closest hard object to her and throwing it at Berserker, and her shouting, “YOU STAY IN YOUR CORNER!”

She turned back to Archer, smiling, but he had ceased talking, so the two just stared at each other for a moment.

_ Maybe he had asked you a question? _

“Sorry, um… what were you saying?” Chiaki asked, trying to play off Berserker’s interruption as the source of her confusion.

"I was just talking about my family. What about you, what is your family like?”

A little downtrodden, Chiaki cleared her throat. She could do this. She can be social.

_ Just focus _ .

“Well, my parents were japanese natives, but my dad’s work brought him to London when I was just a baby. So technically, I’m raised british even though… you know. Kinda strange, I guess.”

Archer shrugged. “I do not think it is so strange. What does your father do?”

“He was… an analyst, I guess. His specialty was examining the different Holy Grail Wars and putting together why someone won, or lost, or whatever. Kayneth Archibald had him on as one of his entourage to try and give him an advantage.”

“Did it work?”

Chiaki shrugged. “Must’ve. Kayneth won. I’m not sure how useful my dad was, though. He had a tendency to go on and on about something without really thinking about it, especially if it’s related to the data he’d analyzed. Like, he one time told me that world leaders are more likely to compete in Holy Grail Wars than any other war. Did you know that Adolf Hitler competed as a Master in the Third Holy Grail War?”

Archer shook his head.

_ You’re boring him. Stop. Change subject. Remember, you’re supposed to talk about him. _

Chiaki cleared her throat, and realized it was very dry. She looked around, and saw a glass of water sitting next to her. She reached for it and guzzled the whole glass. After she finished, setting down the glass, she looked at Archer.

“I am so sorry. I am terrible at this.”

Archer shrugged again, his usual stoic face not changing. “Really, you’re doing fine.”

Chiaki gave a deep sigh. “No, I’m not. I’m really not. I know you said that I had passion or whatever, but… I’m honestly a mess. I haven’t had consistent social activity in five or six years.”

Archer suddenly held out his hand. “Take my hand,” he said.

Chiaki was frozen for a moment. Slowly, gingerly, she reached and took his hand. It was warm, alerting her to the fact that her hand was probably very sweaty, which made her sweat even more.

“When I said you had a fire in your soul, I meant it. You have passion and drive - to do what, I do not know. But it is there. Trapped. You are strong, and you are brave, but there is something keeping you from seeing that.”

Chiaki turned away, incapable of looking at him for the moment. “You can’t… possibly know all that. You hardly know me.”

“Yes, that is true. But I have a knack for understanding a person based on what they have done. Chiaki Nakazawa, you are doing fine. So take a deep breath. We have all night.”

Chiaki, still nervous, looked back to Archer.

Uhlan smiled at her and squeezed her hand.

Immediately, Chiaki ripped her hand out of Archer’s hand and wrenched herself out of her seat, accidentally knocking her glass off the table.

She didn’t want to be here. She didn’t want this.

Archer said something, standing up, but his words were far away. Uhlan was still smiling at her. But his face, in her mind, was still frozen. There was still a chance. Chiaki turned, looking for the door. She moved towards it, bumping into things as she went. It didn’t matter what or who. She needed to get out of here. Uhlan still smiled that smile. She loved that smile.

She threw the doors open, and the warm summer night’s air drowned her even more. She ran. She didn’t know where to, and it really didn’t matter, she just ran. Lights flashed across her eyes, and she heard a faraway clamor of noise, but none of it mattered. She kept running. She felt herself suddenly falling. As if on queue, she started to remember. She didn’t want to. But she was going to. The frozen picture of Uhlan started up again.

“ _ Chiaki _ !” Berserker shouted, grabbing hold of her.

She was at the entrance to the park across the street. There was some commotion behind Berserker, on the street.

Berserker looked at her, clearly concerned. Chiaki felt tears falling off her face. She swallowed and, with Berserker’s help, stood up.

“What happened? What did he say?” Berserker asked.

Chiaki looked down, keeping a hand on Berserker for support. Her heels had got stuck in the uneven ground and caused her to fall. She should've known better than to run in heels, anyway…

“Nothing…” she answered, still looking at her ruined shoes.

“Nothing? Chiaki, what’s going on?”

“Nothing is going on. I’m just… I’m just weak. I shouldn’t have come here tonight.”

Berserker was quiet for a bit. Chiaki took the moment to squat down and pick up her shoe.

She looked back at Berserker as she stood up.

“I’m… sorry, Chiaki. I didn’t know you would…”

“...freak out?”

Berserker didn’t answer.

Chiaki nodded over to a nearby bench, further into the park, away from the entrance and hidden by a few bushes. “Help me to that bench, will you?”

Berserker nodded, helping her there. Agnes and Archer both entered the park, walking up to them as Chiaki sat and took off her other shoe.

“Is everything alright?” was the first thing Agnes asked.

“Yeah,” Chiaki answered, “Just had a bit of an episode. Over now.”

“Are you okay?” Agnes followed up.

Chiaki nodded. “Yeah, I just needed some… air.”

Chiaki looked over at Archer, and saw that he was at a distance. He looked… sad. He turned, and started to walk away.

“It’s not… it’s not his fault…” Chiaki almost whispered. Always. She hated how she was always guilting others like this.

“I’ll tell him, just wait here and take a load off,” Berserker offered, jogging after him.

Chiaki just looked back at her shoes. She was peripherally aware that Agnes came and sat by her. The two just continued to sit on the bench in the middle of the quiet park, the faint noises of the restaurant and cars going by softly waiving their way.

"I think it’s wonderful,” Agnes said.

Chiaki looked at her. “What?”

Agnes looked a bit surprised for a moment, and then shook her head. “Oh, pardon me, that must sound so horrible. I meant the fact that you're here today. It’s wonderful.”

Chiaki just furrowed her brow.

Agnes continued. “I don’t know all the details. Theseus didn’t say anything, of course, but whatever it was… I imagine it was hard. I know you’ve been really trying hard, and Theseus has been helping you work up to this night. And even knowing that you might… have an episode, like you did… you came anyway. I think that’s something to be proud of.”

Chiaki just closed her eyes and shook her head, looking straight on to the forest. “Thanks, but I don’t think you know what you’re talking about. What happened to me, all those years ago… it's still holding me back. I should be over it, but I'm not. I’m just weak like that.”

Agnes didn’t respond. Chiaki couldn’t blame her. It was difficult to respond to something like that, she guessed.

Berserker came back into view. Chiaki’s heart sank a little when she saw Archer wasn’t with him.

“Sorry I ruined your guys’ date,” Chiaki said, looking at Berserker.

Berserker was in his servant attire. “Chiaki, get behind me.”

Chiaki blinked. She turned, and saw that Agnes was slumped over. There was a red coloration staining her dress.

Chiaki jumped up, running for Berserker.

“If you wanted my attention, you’ve got it. Now come out,” Berserker growled.

A servant materialized, sitting on the back of the bench, with his feet on the seat where Chiaki had been, his elbows resting on his knees.

He had brown leather pants on with similar boots. His upper half was swathed in a rough-looking animal hide of some kind. It was sleeveless, showing off his muscular arms, and had a hood, which covered his head. Chiaki couldn't tell, but it seemed that the hood kept his face from being seen - no matter what angle or light source you used to view it. It must’ve had some magical nature to it.

“Assassin,” Berserker stated.

“Process of elimination. Forgive me, but I was getting bored of all the talking. Thought I’d kill the hag and move things along a bit.”

Berserker clenched his fist, and Chiaki felt a small shockwave come from it.

“Listen here, you pathetic little bastard, that ‘hag’ you just killed happened to be a lady I very much liked. Now tell me why you’re here before I murder you.”

“Don’t get angry at me. Isn’t it our job to kill witnesses? If you wanted her alive, you shouldn’t have brought her in to all this. And as for why I’m here… Isn’t it obvious? I’m here to kill you, Theseus. I’ve done some research on you, and your legend, and how the two seem to fit together. I know everything I need to know about you.”

Berserker flashed forward, smashing the bench Assassin had been on. Assassin landed in front of Chiaki. He stood up and fixed his eyeless gaze on her.

“You trust him, don’t you?” Assassin said to her.

Berserker tore back to his original spot, aiming at Assassin. Assassin easily slipped around it, not even looking at where it was coming from. Berserker pulled back his punch an instant before it collided with Chiaki, though a gust of air from it came and blew her hair wildly back.

“You shouldn’t. He has a habit of letting people down.”

"Shut up!” Berserker roared, throwing another punch at Assassin. Assassin jumped, landing on the first and then running up Berserker’s arm, flipping off of it and landing further in the clearing.

“He  _ has _ told you, hasn’t he? Oh, I know he hasn’t. Talked all he liked about the Ariadne Thread, but not a word about the actual Ariadne, huh?”

Berserker struck out at him again, but Assassin was too fast once more… or it seemed that way to Chiaki.

“Strange that this should anger you, Theseus. After all, you didn’t get angry back then, did you? No, you kowtowed to Athena. Followed her command so very loyally. A bit far removed from ‘reaching up to the heavens themselves and dragging down anyone who dare call themselves a god’, isn’t it?”

Another strike. Another dodge… but there was something different. Assassin was moving before Berserker was. Assassin wasn’t faster, he just knew when Berserker was going to attack.

“I can entirely understand, of course. After all, Dionysus desired Ariadne as another one of his numerous wives. You were just looking out for her best interests by leaving her behind.”

Berserker attacked, Assassin dodged. Chiaki was keeping herself ready for whatever may happen… but something was different. Up until now, every fight Berserker had been in, he had made sure that - for the most part - he was between the enemy and Chiaki. Not this time. Berserker was just attacking, trying to crush Assassin with brute force…

Chiaki took a step back. Berserker was angry. Not just mad, but truly  _ furious _ . She could see it on his face. She had never seen him that angry, not even with Lancer. She looked over to Assassin, who didn’t seem to pay her any mind. He was doing it on purpose. He was baiting him.

“Berserker, don’t listen to him,” Chiaki commanded. If Berserker had heard her, he made no indication.

Assassin continued. “She’s been made immortal, you know. Most wives of the gods are. And when the decline in the Age of Gods began, most of the lesser deities from the Greek Pantheon are theorized to have escaped to the Reverse Side of the World, alongside most Phantasmal Species. That means she’s still alive.”

Berserker’s missed strike pulverized the Earth, creating a crater and sending dirt flying everywhere. Assassin was standing on top of Agnes’ now crumpled body.

“Yes. Great news, isn’t it? She’s still out there, waiting for you. Don’t worry though, she’s not lonely. After all, Dionysus  _ is _ known as the God of Pleasure, isn’t he? Yes, he's probably  _ pleasuring _ her as we speak.”

The next charge scared Chiaki. It was a face of violence. His teeth were bared, his eyes were wide. His once handsome and chiselled face was now a statue representing hate. It wasn’t just anger. It wasn’t just fury. It was pure madness.

“Berserker!” Chiaki called out to him.

Assassin jumped diagonally towards Berserker as he threw his punch at Assassin. Chiaki blinked. They were too fast for her to follow. But the aftermath, what she saw now, horrified her.

Berserker was untouched beside a single cut along his arm. He was seemingly frozen, his hand embedded in the Earth beside the bench. His head turned downward, hair covering his face.

Assassin stood behind him. In one hand, he held a serrated dagger. In the other, he held a clump of golden string.

Berserker sagged, and then twisted his body upwards. His hair fell off his face, and his eyes were now clouded with insanity. He let out a wail of misery and wrathfulness. Chiaki felt a strange stab in her soul. It was like when he let out all his power to fight Lancer, except… it was worse this time, and he couldn’t pull himself back.

_ I have to… I have to do something! _ her mind realized. But what could she do?

Chiaki looked down at herself. She was dirty, and muddy… but she still had her Command Seal. She looked up and reached out her hand towards Berserker as he slumped over again.

No words came. She found it hard to breath, much less speak. Something wet started to spill out on to her dress. She looked down and saw blood coming… from below her field of vision. She reached her hand up, and felt the hot blood spewing from her neck.

Everything seemed to slow down. She turned her head, becoming aware that Assassin, holding his bloody dagger, was standing slightly to her side.

“Good. One down,” was all he said before giving her a light push.

She started falling backwards, much slower than she imagined she would. As her vision tilted, as her head simply refused to follow her commands, she saw the moon in the distance. It was faint in the moonlight, but you could see that there were clouds coming in. It was going to storm soon.

It looked like those sunny days were over.


	12. How to Kill a Hero

Theseus sat at the edge of the bed, holding the circle of string. It was a massive bundle, so large he could hardly hold it all in a single hand - even as big as his hands were.

Ariadne knelt behind him and placed her head on his shoulder. “I made it for you. So you can find your way back out of the Labyrinth.”

“A bit like cheating, isn’t it?”

“I’d rather you cheat and live than play fair and die.”

“But what is a hero if not honorable?” he smiled, placing the string on the bed beside him.

“Theseus, please…”

“I'll take it, Ariadne, I promise,” Theseus said, turning his head towards the window.

Ariadne just looked at him. Theseus was wearing a strange face.

“What is it?” Ariadne asked.

“...I have to kill your own blood. Will you not resent me?”

Ariadne turned and kissed his shoulder. “Of course not. I could never hate you.”

Theseus smiled to himself. “You say that so easily…”

“It’s the truth.”

Theseus got another strange look on his face. A serious one. He turned to Ariadne, causing her to move her head and instead look him in his eyes. Theseus reached out and took her hands in his.

“Leave with me. Let me show you Athens, and Thebes, and all the other places I’ve been.”

Ariadne’s eyes lit up at his words, but she shook her head. “You speak as if you’ve already won the coming battle.”

“I’ve secured the love of the most beautiful woman in the world. How have I not?”

Ariadne beamed a smile at him. He suddenly reached around and firmly grasped her butt, making her squeal. She leaned in and kissed him deeply.

* * *

Chiaki blinked.

“Sorry, I’m not boring you, am I?” Kenshin Nakazawa asked.

“You’re not,” Chiaki assured, “I’m just thinking.”

“Ah. So that’s what you’re doing when you get that faraway look in your eye? Thinking about someone in particular?”

“Dad…”

“Right. Sorry. Zipped lip,” Kenshin said, making the motion.

“I don’t want you to stop talking, I just don’t want you to make things weird, okay?”

“And why would I make things weird? I’m not gonna tell him or anything.”

“You’re just going to make obvious hints over and over again until we’re together. Basically the same thing.”

Kenshin shrugged. “Obvious is a subjective concept, I think.”

His phone started ringing. Kenshin grabbed it and put it up to his ear, listening intently for a bit.

“I understand. I’ll be right over.” He hung up, sliding the phone back into his pocket. “Gotta go. Lord El-Melloi needs me for something. I may not be back until late.”

“Dinners in the fridge, freezer, or in a can?”

“Is it ever not?”

Chiaki rolled her eyes and got up, heading for the living room and waving farewell to her father. She took a moment to look around, trying to find the remote to the television.

* * *

Chiaki blinked.

The words that came from Theseus’ mouth surprised even himself. “...I want to save you.”

Before him stood a towering monstrosity. In each hand. It held an axe as tall as Theseus. It’s head wore an iron mask in the shape of a bull… but Theseus had cracked a piece open. The beast’s right eye now stared out at him.

It wasn’t an eye that was filled with anger, but with confusion. It gave away that the beast didn’t fully understand what was happening… and at the same time, it was happy that it was happening. This beast was so far down its path that it never saw another outcome for itself. This monster had no hope.

Wasn’t this the type of being that Theseus wished to protect? To save? It wasn’t a monster - it was a human that had been neglected. Tossed into the abyss to be forgotten about, yet couldn’t be due to his nature.

And so Theseus spoke for the first time since meeting this beast. But the beast couldn’t understand. Or it chose not to. Theseus’ heart broke as it raised its axes and charged at him once more.

* * *

Chiaki blinked.

Uhlan held out the plate for her to take. On it was some cheese on toast.

“This is really the best you could come up with?” Chiaki asked, arching an eyebrow at him.

“Better than whatever god forsaken TV dinner your father left for you,” Uhlan reasoned, giving the plate a light shake from side to side, as if to entice her.

“They’re not  _ that _ bad. And cheese on toast is hardly filling,” Chiaki scoffed, grabbing the plate and sitting down at the table.

“But it's fresh. I’ll get some fruit or something next time,” Uhlan spoke, heading back to the kitchen.

“Next time? You’re not supposed to be here  _ this _ time,” Chiaki teased.

“And what else have I got to do? I’ve mastered every form of magecraft my teachers have thrown my way. Besides, as long as  _ he _ doesn’t find out I’ve left, it’ll be fine,” Uhlan replied, preparing his own food.

“You shouldn’t let him scare you like that. Fight back. Stand up to him,” Chiaki suggested, taking a bite of her snack.

“Uh, no. You haven’t seen him angry. He’d flay me alive.”

Chiaki gave a small laugh. She became worried when Uhlan didn’t. He was so… well, she wanted to help him.

“Uhlan… you know that if you ever need to get away, me and my dad-”

Uhlan cleared his throat, interrupting her. “Where is your dad, anyway?”

Chiaki felt a bit hurt, but she let him change the subject. She wanted him to feel comfortable here. It was the least she could do. “Running errands. Lord El-Melloi has been calling on him around this time everyday starting about a week ago.”

“Mm. So I can start coming over everyday around this time, then?” Uhlan smirked, returning to the table.

Chiaki knew that he really shouldn’t but… she really loved that smile.

* * *

Chiaki blinked.

There was crying from a far off point. Words came floating in from the darkness.

“I only have one question… Could I have saved him?”

“Leave tonight, but do not wake Ariadne.”

“Theseus!”

“Captain, what happened back there?”

“I’m sorry, sir, there was nothing we could’ve done.”

“Theseus!”

“He was a great king.”

“It was my fault. I should’ve remembered.”

“Sorry about your father… but you’ve gotta forget about Ariadne, alright? You just gotta get another woman going in your life. You know what? I’ve got an idea…”

“Theseus!”

“Theseus!”

“Theseus!”

The echoes died down after a while… but the crying remained. Theseus was still there. He stared up into the infinite black sky, laid out on his back across a rock. A pale shadow floated over him, but his eyes couldn’t focus on it.

“How prideful must you be to try and take the wife of a god? Your hubris is your undoing, Theseus. Were it not that Athena has greater plans for you, I would simply have Tartarus devour your soul. Be thankful that I instead only leave you incapable of action.”

The pale shadow left, but Theseus couldn’t watch him go. His eyes couldn’t move. His eyelids couldn’t blink. His arms and legs remained numb. Even his heartbeat slowed. He couldn’t breath. He couldn’t speak. All he could do was look up, and accept his fate.

* * *

Chiaki blinked

She was scared at first, since she didn’t recognize him. She was still clutching her blankets, though she was now sitting up. All he appeared to be was a dark silhouette against the occasional flashes of lightning in the storm outside. He moved away from the window. But the way he was moving… was different.

“...you were right, Chiaki. You were always right. I should’ve… stood up to him a long time ago.”

“U-Uhlan? What are you doing here?”

“I went to go see him. He was in his bed… crying. Imagine, Chiaki. The man I’ve lived in fear of for so long… each night he had laid in his bed  _ weeping _ like a pitiful, impotent,  _ child _ ,” Uhlan explained, not making much more sense as he continued walking forward.

“Uhlan…” Chiaki spoke slowly, “...what did you do?”

Uhlan spread his arms wide, alerting Chiaki to the fact that he was holding something in his hand. “I freed myself.”

The door opened and the lights turned on. Her father stepped in behind Uhlan. Chiaki gasped as she realized that Uhlan was covered in blood. In his hand, an equally bloody spike, or perhaps metal stake. It was long and sharp, and that's all that mattered.

“Uhlan, stop. It’s over now,” Kenshin gently spoke, taking small steps into the room.

Uhlan turned to face him. “Mr. Nakazawa…? What are you…?”

“I know everything that's happened, Uhlan. Just stop now, there’s no need to go further. Give me the spearhead. Your father wouldn’t want this.”

Uhlan squinted at him and turned his head to this side. “You… you know?”

Kenshin nodded slowly, taking another few small steps forward. “Lord El-Melloi has told me everything. It can end here, Uhlan. You can still turn back.”

Uhlan didn’t look happy. He may have been disappointed, or stoic, but he certainly wasn’t happy.

“You weren’t supposed to find out, Mr. Nakazawa. No one was. I’m sorry. You’re going to have to die.”

“Uhlan!” Chiaki called out. It was too late. Uhlan plunged the elongated spike deep into Kenshin’s chest. Kenshin looked surprised for a moment, and then fell back against the wall, right beside the door. Kenshin reached out and grabbed onto Uhlan, but another stab from Uhlan caused his arms to go limp. He slumped, falling to the floor.

Chiaki couldn’t breath. She hadn’t been the one who had been stabbed, but she felt the blow nonetheless. There was a metal clatter on the ground, and Chiaki realized that Uhlan had dropped the spearhead. He turned towards her, his eyes glazed over.

“I’m sorry you had to see that, Chiaki. But it’ll be okay. You don’t need him. You showed me that in life, you don’t need  _ anyone _ . And I’m here to give you the same freedom I feel now.”

Chiaki had never felt so enraged in her life. In her mind, she was running forward, grabbing the spearhead off the ground and stabbing it into Uhlan’s face. That beautiful face of his. He smiled at her, and it all went to hell. She wanted to get up, and to run. But she was caught. She couldn’t decide what to do. Uhlan moved towards her.

“You see now, don’t you? We can be together now. All our lives we were prevented from expressing our love because of him, and now that he’s gone  _ we can _ . That’s wonderful, isn’t it?”

Chiaki wanted to shout at him to die. But there was that feeling in her chest as he got closer that stopped her. He was right. She loved him. She had loved him her whole life, from the first moment she saw him.

Uhlan moved the blankets from her hands and got onto the bed, stroking her face as he pushed her back onto her pillow.

She wanted to vomit. He smelled of blood. She wanted to shout at him, tell him to get away from her. But her words never came out of her mouth. She couldn’t. She hated him. She hated what he had done. She hated the way he was touching her now.

But she loved him. So all she could do was look up, and accept her fate.

* * *

Chiaki blinked.

How long had it been? Weeks? Months? Years. He somehow knew, instinctively, it had been years.

Not that he had been presently aware of that fact. He had stopped being present for a while. For the first several days, he wanted to cry. But the sadness turned into anger, and he raged and raged for days after that, inside his own head. But the rage eventually died down. He went over the events of his life in his mind so many times… always coming to the point that he left Ariadne on that beach. That’s where everything went so wrong.

But he had gone over it so many times that, after a while… he couldn’t. His mind started to slip away from him. He was trying to stop it, but there was only so much a man could do after being trapped inside his own mind for so long.

And by the time his eyes registered something, nearly two decades after he had first been laid here, he was dead. His heart was still beating, and his body was still warm… but he had died a long time ago.

Still, that didn’t change the fact that there was someone standing over him now. The new sight was a large man easily a head taller than Theseus himself. He had wild black hair and brown skin. The epitome of a man - a sculpted face, an absurdly well-built body. One eye glowed red, the other gold.

“I know you. You’re Theseus, aren’t you?” Heracles spoke. Theseus didn’t process the words at first.

Heracles reached down and hoisted Theseus easily onto his shoulders. The instant Heracles pulled Theseus off that rock, he felt the curse of the Death God wearing off him. And yet, Theseus still couldn’t speak. It had been so long… he had forgotten how to, at first.

"Don’t worry, friend. I’ve got you now,” Heracles assured. Heracles began marching out of the darkness that surrounded them. Theseus’ mouth, slowly, began to find its power. His voice crackled, as if it were a blade sloughing off rust.

Heracles continued forward in silence, allowing Theseus to realize that Heracles, in his off hand, held a leash tied to some creature, and he was pulling it along. This creature, Theseus soon recognized, was Cerberus, the guard dog of the underworld.

He was truly amazing, this man. No… more than a man. A hero.

A light soon shone down on them, and Heracles began climbing a hill towards it. As they approached the light, Theseus found the strength to speak. He spoke the words that had been on his mind the whole time. The only words a person who had been saved  _ could _ say.

“Th… ank… you…” Theseus finally rasped out. Heracles moved his head slightly, but didn’t look at Theseus.

“Think nothing of it.”

Heracles stepped out of the underworld and into the light. It was in this way that the man known as the Wise King of Athens was born.

* * *

Chiaki opened her eyes. The ceiling of some unknown building greeted her.

_ What… was that? _ Chiaki wondered. She blinked and sat up. She was on a couch in a rather large room with a fireplace and a table. Another two couches sat perpendicular to the one she was on, and formed a kind of sitting space in front of the fireplace. On one couch, sat Berserker, and on the other, sat Remia.

Berserker looked to be in the process of re-wrapping his Ariadne Thread around his arm again, his eyes totally focused on that task.

"You’re up. Good,” Remia stated.

Funnily enough, Chiaki rather vividly remembered getting her throat sliced open. Chiaki reached up and touched her neck. It was smooth and unslit, not even a scar remaining. Yet she swore she could still feel the cut there. Her hand brushed up against something that was sticking out of her collarbone. Chiaki looked down at it. It looked like a cross, but the line pointing upwards was instead a loop.

“It’s called an Ab Reh Sah. Picked up a couple in Egypt a few years back. Helps keep mana in the body when your dyin’ by blockin’ its flow. Like a dam,” Remia explained. “You can probly take it out now.”

Chiaki didn’t touch it, instead looking back at Berserker, still wrapping up his arm.

Remia cleared his throat. “I reckon you’re thirsty. I’ll go get started on some tea,” he said, getting up from the couch and leaving the room.

When the door closed, Berserker spoke. “So… saw all that, did you?”

She didn’t respond at first. She eventually nodded.

“You know, I was going to tell you. Back after that fight with Lancer. But before I could, you told me how you wanted to fight by my side. It made me feel… proud, I guess. That someone still saw me as the hero I wanted to be. Made me feel that maybe, if I tried hard enough, I really could still be a hero… guess it kind of backfired on me. Sorry for not telling you.”

Chiaki waited for a bit. “I’m really sorry, too. What happened to you… with Ariadne.”

Chiaki heard him bristle, so she stopped talking.

Berserker shook his head. “Don’t apologize to me. I chose to abandon her. I don’t even know why. I made a promise to her that I’d take her with me and show her everything she ever wanted to see…” Berserker stopped wrapping, looking up at the wall. “And then I abandoned her. Some hero.”

Berserker turned, and looked at her. His eyes said it all.

“So,” she said, “you saw, too?”

“Chiaki…” he very nearly murmured, “I‘m so sorry.”

So he did see.

Chiaki looked down and grabbed a hold of the strange cross she didn’t remember the name of. She started to pull it out, and it surprisingly slid out quite easily and with little pain.

He went to speak again, but Chiaki interrupted him, keeping her eyes down. “Just shut up, alright? It doesn’t change anything.”

“It-”

“ _ I said shut up! _ ” Chiaki shouted at him.

A deafening silence filled the room. She could feel the heat coming to her face. A few harrowing moments later, she heard the floor creak. Another moment passed, and Berserker knelt down at her side, in front of the couch she was on. She was sure, at this point, that he could see the tears in her eyes.

She looked up at him. He was just kneeling there, looking at her, and staying silent.

She looked away again. “It’s just stupid. All of it. It's been five years, and it still feels like it happened last night. Every night.”

Still no response from Berserker. He didn’t know what to say. No one ever did. She needed to get angry. If she got angry, it would prevent her from getting sad.

“I’m just a bomb, waiting to blow. And the littlest thing can set me off.”

Get angry at anything. Get angry at Berserker. Get angry at herself. Get angry, and stop the tears. She needed to get angry.

“The worst part? I can’t be fixed. Whenever someone tries, when someone gets close, I start to feel guilty, and you know why? Because they take my hand, and they say some sweet thing, and then I feel…”

Chiaki clenched her fists and her teeth.

“And then I feel like I’m betraying him somehow. The same man who murdered my father and then raped me. I feel like  _ I’m _ betraying  _ him _ .”

She couldn’t get angry. Not at him. Don’t get angry at him. That's not fair.

“How absolutely  _ fucked _ in the head do you have to be to let that happen? My father is murdered, I am humiliated and exploited, and I feel  _ sorry _ for the man responsible. Don’t apologize to me. I am an idiotic little girl who’s still in love with her rapist. I deserve everything that happens to me.”

There was still no response. Chiaki turned her head to Berserker, still knelt there and looking at her with strong and sad eyes.

When he spoke, his words were spoken softly. “No one deserves that. You’re not fucked in the head. There was nothing wrong with you to begin with.”

He held out his hand to her. “I’m here to help you, however you need me to.”

There was nobody. Nobody she could be angry at. She couldn’t stop the tears now. Her trembling voice escaped her lips. “I… don’t…”

She leaned into him, and he pulled her into a hug. She just fell apart, there in his arms. And it was strange. It was okay. She knew that Berserker wouldn’t hurt her. For the first time in so long, she could touch someone… and be okay.

Berserker held her close. “Don’t worry, friend. I’ve got you now.”

* * *

Remia stood, arms crossed, looking down at the teapot on the stovetop. It was slowly boiling. He could faintly hear the crying in the other room, so he turned the fan above the stove on in order to drown it out.

That girl had gone through a lot. Nearly dying was a pretty traumatic experience. From what Archer said, she also had other issues, but… Remia didn’t want to interrupt.

The door to the kitchen opened, and Tohsaka and Lancer walked in.

“She’s recovered?” she asked.

Remia nodded. “Give her and Berserker a bit of space. I think they need it.”

Sakura moved over to the table next to the window and sat at it. Lancer leaned against the wall, putting his hands in his pockets. They waited in silence for a while.

“That girl is in trouble,” Remia finally said.

“What makes you say that?” Tohsaka asked.

Remia kept his eyes on the tea for a bit. “Ms. Tohsaka, I’ve journeyed around the world quite a bit in my days. I’ve done a lot of things. I’ve learned to play a couple instruments, I learned to ride a motorcycle, speak a few different languages… but I could never learn to make a good cup of tea. I mean, by now you’ve most likely noticed.”

Tohsaka arched an eyebrow. “Where is this going?”

“Just follow me for a minute. I can’t make a cup of tea. I got plenty of other hobbies. I could go collect some stamps, maybe try to write a memoir or a book or something, but instead, I’m always in here, trying to make some damn tea. I fail every time, no matter what I try, but I keep tryin’. I haven’t played any instruments in a long time. Haven’t spoken a different language just for the fun of it in a long time. Haven’t written a book, or collected a stamp, or done any damn thing besides tryin’ to make tea. I suppose I just want to. It means a lot to me, to prove that I can, with difficulty, make a good cup of tea.”

Tohsaka turned in her seat, folding her legs and arms, but continuing to listen. Remia turned his head and looked at her. “I reckon I’m gonna die before I make a good cup of tea. And I reckon that all those other things I  _ could _ do will go undone because of it. If you give a certain kind of person an impossible task, they focus on it until it’s done, regardless of the price you gotta pay to do so.”

Tohsaka waited after he was finished, but still had a look of confusion and that arched eyebrow. “I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

“What he means,” Lancer spoke, diverting their attention towards him, “is that a hero saves people. And even if they meet someone they can’t save, they’ll keep trying to save them - even if it means they’ll die in the end, and the person remains forever unsaved.”

Tohsaka looked between the two. “And why are you telling me this?”

“They’ve already lost, Ms. Tohsaka,” Remia replied, nodding to the door that lead to the other room. “We don’t have to fight them. They ain’t a threat no more. Let’s leave ‘em in peace.”

Tohsaka stood up, and straightened out her attire. “I know. Archer convinced me of as much just a few minutes ago.”

Remia pursed his lips. Tohsaka walked past him, towards the tea and poured herself a cup.

“...Coulda said somethin’,” Remia murmured.

“But then we wouldn’t have heard you speak so eloquently on how terrible your tea is,” Lancer replied.

“And it’s not like you made it very clear what you were trying to say in the first place,” Tohsaka compounded, smelling the tea as she moved back to her seat.

Remia took off his hat and scratched the top of his head. “Alright. We at least givin’ them a place to stay for the rest of tonight?”

“Why wouldn’t we? We’re in an alliance, aren’t we?” Tohsaka replied, taking a sip. She made a face and set the teacup down. “Pass the sugar?”

* * *

Joachim stretched as he got out of bed. He moved down the rickety stairs that led to his kitchen, and began making his coffee. After he had finished one for himself and one for Elisa, he moved to the window, looking out at the field as the barely-rising sun peeked over the horizon.

The Stranger was still out there, working, as Joachim had expected. The Stranger was always working. Had the farmer not known better, he’d have thought he had stayed up all night working, but that would’ve been impossible. He simply stayed up later than Joachim and got up earlier. The Stranger was young and strong, so he could still do that sort of thing.

“He’s still out there?” Elisa asked, having now entered the kitchen.

“Yep. Fourth day in a row that he’s beaten me out here.”

“It should be impossible, working as much as he does with so little sleep. Ask him to come inside.”

“You know that doesn’t work.”

“I know, but we should still try, shouldn’t we? I hate being indebted to someone I don’t even know the name of…” Elisa replied, joining Joachim at the window.

They were suspicious of him at first, of course. Who wouldn’t? Someone who worked without pay, seemingly had infinite stamina, and followed orders to a T? Joachim wondered if he was a criminal of some kind, on the lamb. But no one had come for him so far, and the Stranger hadn’t done so much as looked at anything on the farm with ill-intent. That said, what really sold Joachim was his voice. It was a comforting voice. Almost commanding, but in a way that made him feel secure. This man was on their side, he could tell.

The farm had suffered the past few harvests, and this summer wasn’t turning out any better, especially since Joachim’s daughter had left. Now it was just left to Joachim to try and keep up with everything. Joachim had taken to hiring farm hands ever since his first son had left, but they were asking more and more from Joachim each year… more than he could afford.

The Stranger was just walking down the road when Joachim had pulled up alongside him. Hoping that a new face wouldn’t ask for as much, Joachim asked him to come work at the farm. Now, five days since then, the Stranger had taken up  _ every _ task. It had taken a day or two for him to become acquainted with all the different duties, and he had a very brute-force way of working, but he was getting the job done. So much so that most of the work until the next harvest was all taken care of. After today, Joachim would struggle with trying to find something for the Stranger to do aside from the daily care for the animals.

Joachim was surprised to find the Stranger suddenly walking up the porch. He saw Joachim at the window and came up to it. Joachim opened it.

“The work is done. The animals and fields lay at rest. Lest you have protest, I shall take my leave.”

Joachim raised an eyebrow. “I got one protest. You leaving at all.” Joachim laughed. The Stranger did not.

“I cannot stay,” the Stranger simply replied.

Joachim was taken aback for a moment by his abruptness. Joachim shrugged. “Well, if you ever want some work, there’ll always be more around here.”

“That is not why I am here.”

Joachim furrowed his brow and took a sip of coffee. “Then why  _ are _ you here?”

The Stranger did not respond. He simply turned, and walked back down the porch.

“Fare thee well,” the Stranger eventually said. He left the farm, and Joachim never saw him again.


	13. Pain

The air was calm. In the distance, the waves of water crashed into the sides of the beach.

His work was done. The old man set the book he had been reading down. His time had come. He could feel it.

It was odd… it felt as though he were falling asleep, but… it felt different… more complete…

The old man yawned as he gave a last look out his window. The sky was grey, and it was cold and a bit wet, but the candlelight, even though it was small, warmed him. The old man closed his eyes.

It had been a fairly dull read and the afternoon had been uneventful. No visitors, no ships passing by, nothing. He admitted that it was quite a boring final day on Earth, but… the old man could hardly imagine a more satisfying day to go than on a day where nothing of note occurred, with only two witnesses to his passing - the calm air, and the sound of crashing waves.

* * *

Izolda bolted into sitting upright. Pain stabbed her hands. But pain was good. Pain meant she was alive. Rider had likely saved her, though she couldn’t clearly remember. He had at least gotten her away from them.

But what was that she had just witnessed? That dream? It wasn’t of her own life, that was certain… had it been some kind of premonition?

Her mind was still spiralling, and the pain did nothing but exacerbate that. Izolda could figure out what was what at a later date and time. She needed to get her pain meds first, then she could sort the rest out.

“You’re up. Good,” a voice spoke to her.

In a haze, she looked at a bald man in a long dark coat, who was sitting in a slightly broken chair. In one hand, he held a book, and appeared to be reading it. He clamped said book shut and walked over to her. She was still on the floor, looking up at him, so she made an effort to stand, but found it difficult to do without the use of her hands. The man simply reached down and grabbed her by the elbow, helping her rise.

“That’s a nasty curse you have. Necromancy, I take it?” he asked.

Izolda looked down at her hands, and realized that her gloves had been taken off, and her sleeves rolled up. No wonder it hurt so much.

The flesh on her hands had nearly entirely rotted away at this point, leaving only bone and tendons to signify where her fingers were. Her palms and wrists still had flesh, though not much. Her forearms glistened with bloody muscle, and only at her elbows did skin finally covered her arms.

She looked up at the man. Who was he? Well… that hardly mattered. If he was here to kill her, he’d likely have done it already. “I need… I need my Methadone,” she forced her lips to speak. Her muscles felt sluggish, like she wasn’t entirely in control.

The man looked down at her hands. “I’m aware. I tried to heal your wounds, thinking you had been harmed in your battle with Berserker and Archer… but I see now that this curse, starting with your fingertips and moving backwards, is unhealable. Only a sufficiently powerful counter-curse would prevent the rot from furthering. Even then, healing may not be possible. Your only respite would be the use of painkillers,” the bald man narrated.

He irritated her. He knew all of that, she had asked for his help, and now he decided to take all day explaining what she already knew, while she had to sit there and wallow in pain? He was just showing off how knowledgeable he was, fueling his ego, like almost every other Magus in the world. She didn’t need his help.

Izolda pulled herself from his grip and moved away, stumbling across the room and trying to find a way out.

“You won’t last very long on your own," he spoke to her.

Izolda growled at him, and continued to look around the room for the exit.

“I have a proposition for you.”

She had no time for this. Izolda turned towards him. “Shut up. Leave me alone.”

The man pulled off his glove, revealing the Command Seal on the back of his hand. “Give me Rider. I can win this war for you.”

Izolda took a moment to process what he had just said. Even ignoring how abrupt he had said it, the very concept was absurd.

“How stupid do you think I am?” Izolda snarled.

“I’m quite serious. Think for a moment about it. You need that curse removed, don’t you?” the man spoke.

Izolda pushed past him. She would normally just kill him, but weakened as she was, the last thing she needed was to get into a fight.

“It is maintained by Mana. What happens when the world’s Mana runs out?” the man continued.

Izolda continued walking, but only for a second. She turned and looked at him. “What are you talking about? Mana has been disappearing, but who knows how long it will take for all of it to disappear?”

The man took a few steps toward her, folding his hands behind his back. “You remember the Berserker-class servant you faced the other night? Theseus, the Greek hero?”

Izolda waited for a moment. “Yes, I remember. Why are you bringing him up?”

“Davy Jones. Theseus. My own servant. Each one is very powerful. Do you know how much Mana it would take to summon them at their full power, as they are? Certainly more than the world has right now. Unless, of course…” the man waited a moment, obviously waiting to just annoy her further.

She gritted her teeth. “Unless  _ what _ ?”

“Someone was pulling it all together. Somehow redirecting Mana from around the world to this very spot, so that a true Holy Grail might be summoned.”

Izolda rolled her eyes. “Very interesting theory-”

“You have a better explanation? You witnessed firsthand the power that Berserker wields. I have no proof to show you, but I assure you that the Lancer-class servant is on that same level, perhaps even more powerful. The last reserves of all Mana in the world is  _ here _ . At the foot of Mt. Gantz.”

Izolda faltered for a few moments, swaying. The pain was still stabbing at her… this was all too much. She just wanted the pain to stop. She closed her eyes, trying to shut it out.

“That means that at the conclusion of this war, not only will the Grail Wars be finished, so will all of the Mana in the world, and that means your curse disappears along with it.”

She opened her eyes again, looking at the man. Finally, he started saying something that made sense to her. End the war, end the pain.

“So… I give you Rider, and you, with your other Servant, win the war?” she asked.

“Hopefully. At the very least, I will  _ end _ it. And that's what you want, isn’t it?” the man spoke, walking closer to her.

Izolda gritted her teeth. The Harweys weren't paying her enough… and they never said that she needed to win, just ensure that the winner didn't use the Grail's power against them.

"Alright. How do we do this? I have to transfer the contract somehow, right?”

The man held up a hand. “Unnecessary. Have Rider reveal himself.”

Izolda hesitated, but she raised her hands as if cupping some water in them. Rider unveiled himself from his spirit form… or rather, what was left of him.

His spiritual core, a boiling ball of blue smoke, floated above her hands.

“I know he’s… not much right now. But all we need is a body for him to go into.”

The man nodded. “I’m aware. We’ve spoken about it.”

Izolda looked up at him with a furrowed brow. “You have?”

The man nodded his head. He reached out and plucked the spiritual core out of the air.

“Fascinating. Just how much Magical Energy is being contained within this small little thing…” the man spoke, almost fondly.

“How… how did you-”

“Hold a spiritual core in my hand? Simple. I, myself, am coated in similar Magical Energy.”

Izolda blinked. She took a step back. How had she not recognized it earlier? “Y-... you’re a….”

“A servant, yes. The Caster-class Servant of the previous war. I was able to incarnate myself between the wars. And I didn’t survive this long by keeping my word,” the Master of Caster spoke, eyeing Izolda.

She barely had time to respond. The spiritual core was suddenly shoved into her chest, easily breaking through her ribcage and piercing her heart. The Other Caster removed his hand from her chest cavity, leaving Rider’s Spiritual Core.

Izolda started to cough. It was so difficult to breathe. Her vision started to go dark. She fell on her hands and knees. The pain was unbearable. It was worse than the pain she felt before, by a mile.

She realized, in horror, that the remaining flesh on her hands was sloughing off her bones as if they were pudding. She screamed, but merely flexing her vocal cords caused her throat to explode outwards like a popped zit.

Her choking only got worse, until blue smoke came rising from out of her mouth. Her vision blackened… she couldn’t breathe. It felt like she was drowning.

Where had she gone wrong?

What did she do to deserve this?

Was it accepting this contract from the Harweys? No, that couldn’t be it… they were the only ones that were willing to help her. The only ones that had the power to do so. And there was no artifact as powerful as the Grail. The only way she could be free of this curse was if she accepted the contract from the Harweys.

But then what about the curse itself? Should she not have accepted the contract to track down that girl? She would’ve never encountered that damn Necromancer that way… but no. She had no way of knowing that the Necromancer would curse her in his dying breaths. There was no avoiding that…

Unless, she should have never become a mercenary? But she had been raised since birth to become an assassin. She was just a child. Was she just supposed to change her own destiny and become something else with only her own power?

She had been doomed since birth. The world had preordained her suffering. Every pain that she had endured, every person held dear that she had lost, every single person taking advantage of her because of her weakness… it was all the world’s way of amusing itself with her. She was a plaything to be cut and ripped and torn up and then discarded.

She remembered the old man beside the ocean when he died… that was what she wanted. She wanted a peaceful death. Away from everyone. But the world wouldn’t even allow her to have that, even after all it had put her through.

Even Rider had betrayed her… but Rider was always a monster, destined for hell. No… he was the keeper of hell itself. He was the devil incarnate. Davy Jones.

To hell with it all.

_ Rider… no, Davy Jones… make them all… suffer. Kill… every last one of them… let them all feel… what it's like to be powerless! _

She disappeared into the darkness.

Rider stood up, brushing off the rest of the skin and muscle attached to him. “Heh. As if I needed ye ta order me ta do that...”

“Hm? I didn’t order anything of you yet,” the Other Caster replied.

Rider cracked his new neck. “Nevermind. Was talkin’ ta meself.” He looked at the Other Caster. “Alright, then, ‘Master’... where ta next?”

The Other Caster circled him, looking him up and down before speaking. “Tell me,” he said, “what do you know of Saber’s Master?”

* * *

Chiaki stared out the window. Rain had started to fall, which meant a pleasant pattering sound had begun to rack against the window. It… helped her think.

“Tea?” Remia asked.

“No thanks.”

“Anythin’ else I can get you?

“I’m fine.”

Chiaki didn’t hear him leave. She turned her head, and sure enough, he was still there, leaning against the counter and looking around.

“I know we’re still kind of enemies, but you don’t have to be here 24/7.”

Remia shrugged. “I know. But what else is there to do?”

“What do you do normally when you’re bored?”

“Make tea.”

Chiaki blinked. Then she sighed, and leaned back in her seat. “I’ll take some tea.”

Remia smiled and turned to the counter, immediately preparing what he needed. Chiaki was pretty sure whatever Remia was doing was absolutely wrong, at least from what she could tell… but it seemed to make him happy, so she just let him continue failing miserably.

“So, America, huh?” Chiaki asked.

Remia nodded. “Born and raised in Texas. Bet you coulda guessed that one, though.”

“So you’re a real cowboy, then?”

Remia gave her a look. “‘Real cowboy’? The hell does that mean? No, I ain’t a cowboy, I’m a magus. Er... ‘scuse me, ‘spellcaster’. Whatever.”

“What kind of magecraft do you use?”

“Well, that's mostly tied in to this gun here, y’see,” Remia explained, pointing at the revolver at his side.

It was black, with a strange white design on the side of it.

“I thought it was just a gun.”

“ _ Just  _ a gun? It’s a  _ gun _ , Nakazawa. Even if it weren’t nothin’ special, it’d still be capable of killin’ a man.”

Chiaki raised her eyebrow. “But it is special.”

“Yup.”

“So, what does it do?”

Remia got a sly smile and peered at her from the corner of his eye. “It makes Magic Circuits.”

Chiaki blinked, hoping the blank stare on her face would tip him off that she had absolutely no idea what he was talking about.

“Y’see, it’s pretty easy to make a Magic Circuit, ‘specially when you get a good look at ‘em, like I have. By usin’ the gun as a conduit, and utilizin’ the small vacuum created after a bullet travels through the air, I can carve Magic Circuits along the path of the bullet,” Remia continued to explain, not even trying to hide his pride in the ability.

Chiaki held back the urge to try and poke holes in the ability. How did making Magic Circuits help anything? It comes from a bullet, so you’d have to tear up your own body if you wanted to try and give yourself more, or replace old ones you lost or something. Again, he seemed quite proud of his ability, so Chiaki tried very hard not to make him lose confidence in it.

“Cool,” she said. She turned and looked back out the window. A thought suddenly occurred to her. She turned back to him. “So, you’ve fought zombies?”

She was interrupted by Berserker entering the kitchen, holding a bowl of noodles.

“Sorry that took a bit. Tohsaka volunteered to make some food for us.”

“What? Where the hell has she been makin’ food at?” Remia asked, bewildered.

“The second kitchen.”

Remia shook his head. “Figures.” He then left the room, not even having started the tea.

Chiaki took the bowl, but it was hot, so she quickly placed it on the table in front of her.

“I didn’t know Tohsaka knew how to cook,” Chiaki replied.

Berserker joined her at the table, sitting across from her. “Why wouldn’t she?”

Chiaki shrugged. “I guess she gives off the whole ‘cold, calculating, ice princess’ vibe so much I figured it just wasn’t something she ever took the time to learn,” Chiaki explained, blowing on the noodles to cool them.

“Actually, she seemed pretty at home, from what I saw. She actually smiled, which was a little weird,” Berserker explained.

Chiaki just poked at her noodles, waiting for them to cool. She had cried for a while in Berserker’s arms, back when she had first woke up. She didn’t understand why it was so alleviating to do so. Never, not once, in all the time since the events of that night five years ago had she ever let a man hold her while she cried. It didn’t matter if she was attracted to them, or if she liked them, or hated them. It was something she would never allow happen.

So why did she let Berserker? What separated him from the rest? She wasn’t at all romantically interested or attracted to him. Right?

Chiaki looked over at Berserker as he noisily slurped down his bowl of noodles in a few seconds, seemingly uncaring of the fact that they were piping hot. He let out a small burp and immediately stood up, presumably to go get more.

Chiaki rolled her eyes. Well, she knew for sure that she wasn't attracted to him, at least. But she did like him. Not  _ like _ like him, just regularly… liked him. He was probably the first real friend she had had for a long time.

But it's not like she hadn’t had any friends over the past half-decade. She had known many men and women who she had grown close to… and then she would get that guilty feeling, and she would leave them behind. For whatever reason, she could never imagine doing that with Berserker. It was… disconcerting.

Berserker re-entered the kitchen, this time with a salad bowl full of noodles. “Why don’t we head back into the… er… drawing room, was it? Cold in here.”

Chiaki looked back at her noodles. They were likely cooled and edible by now, but she had lost her appetite. She got up and joined Berserker in the other room, the two of them sitting side by side on the same couch Chiaki had woken up on.

He seemed to be able to recover so easily from what had happened. Then again, he was very skilled at making his true emotions unknown, hiding behind the facade of a carefree hero. Maybe that’s how he did it. By pretending.

“Berserker?” she asked.

“Mm?” was his noodle-addled response.

“Can I be honest with you?” Chiaki asked, keeping her eyes on the bowl in front of her.

Berserker took a moment to respond. She heard him set his salad bowl of noodles down on the coffee table. “Of course. What is it?”

She wanted to tell him. She needed to tell him. Not that he didn’t already know… he was very observant. There really wasn’t any point in telling him. Except that she needed to get it off her chest…

“I’m a thief,” she spoke quickly.

Berserker waited a moment. And Chiaki waited for him to respond. The moment of silence passed relatively quickly. “I know. You’re a bit too sneaky for a common Mage. Even one in this era.”

“I know you know, I just… wanted to say it. I dunno why.”

Berserker shifted his weight next to her. “And?”

Chiaki took a deep breath, closing her eyes. She could do this. She looked over at Berserker. He had his arms folded and a concerned look on his face.

“Do you know  _ what _ I’ve stolen?”

Berserker furrowed his brow. “Magecraft. The Lightning Cestus, most of those other instructional papers in your basement that you still don’t know how to use… I believe you steal spells and the like.”

Chiaki nodded slowly. “And one more thing.”

Berserker furrowed his brow. “What do you mean?”

“Maybe you’ve noticed, but I’m not exactly the best Magus in the world. Not even close. My dad wasn’t either. The Nakazawas never really have been. The Nakazawa family has been one that records past Magecraft and tries to restore and recover lost Magus’ Family research. In that way, the Nakazawas have never attained glory on their own merit. But they did have one thing...” Chiaki began to explain. This was going to be difficult.

Chiaki turned and reached up to the straps of her dress.

“Chiaki-” Berserker spoke.

“It’s okay. Just… wait,” Chiaki continued. She began to pull at them and slide them down over her shoulders. She pulled the dress down enough that Berserker could see her upper back. It wasn’t the full thing, but it should’ve been enough.

By now, he’d be seeing a multi-colored design brilliantly displayed on the entirety of her back. It glowed with blues and greens and yellows and purples, all connected by a single underlying grey design that called to mind a circuit board.

“It’s called the Unification Circuit. It’s a tool that my great-great grandfather thought up as a way of temporarily transferring Magic Crests from a dead or dying Magus. It never really worked until my grandma completed it. My dad never used it because he was much more interested in the Holy Grail Wars than widespread Magecraft. And then I got it.”

Chiaki slid her dress back up, securing it again before turning, looking ahead at the wall. She didn’t want to look at Berserker right now.

“When I first went out into the world, I had no idea that the Holy Grail War was going to happen. I just wanted to… to…”

_ Get revenge, _ she told herself. She wasn’t sure that was true anymore.

“Well, I needed power, regardless. So I went around the world, stealing the Magic Crests of any Magus family I could get my hands on. Many of them had already died out… a few hadn’t yet. Beckland, Borzak, Icecolle, Matou, Sisigou, Uvnagoc. I never learned how to translate Magic Crests, so I can’t use the magecraft inside of them, like my dad probably could… but they’re a good source of Mana. Truth is, I haven’t felt the slightest bit of pain from you fighting, even though your power is first-rate, because the Mana being used isn’t mine. It’s all stored in those Magic Crests, being transferred through me to you.”

Berserker didn’t say anything for a bit. Chiaki thought that maybe he didn’t want to interrupt her.

“That’s it. That’s all I had to say,” Chiaki finished.

“Why tell me this?” Berserker quickly responded.

Chiaki took a moment. “Because I wanted to be honest with you. So you could be honest with me,” Chiaki replied, turning and looking at him.

Berserker gave her a long stare. “Why?”

Chiaki looked down for a moment. “I dunno. I just want you to be honest with me from now on.”

Berserker slowly leaned back in his seat. “I see…”

Chiaki turned, and looked at her noodles. They were probably lukewarm, if not outright cold.

“Thank you,” Berserker eventually said. Chiaki turned back to look at him, confused.

Berserker leaned forward, giving her a smile. “That’s all I needed to hear. Thank you for being honest with me, even if I already knew. But…” He stood up, cracking his knuckles. “Don’t think that nearly getting killed is a good enough excuse to skip tonight’s training. On your feet, Master.”

Chiaki couldn’t believe him. She just stared at him, intending to give him a disappointed look. “I don’t have workout gear.”

“I fight in a skirt all the time, you’ll be fine,” Berserker responded. “On your feet.”

Chiaki rolled her eyes but, despite herself, a smile crept onto her face. She might as well train. They needed to start getting serious about this war anyway.

* * *

Remia whistled to himself as he inspected the chamber of his gun. He was leaning on the window-sill of his second-floor room. He occasionally took a peak outside at the ever-lightening forest that surrounded them. It was nearly three o’clock, he figured. Sun would be up in an hour or two. Well, perhaps not, with those gathering storm clouds.

_ I should catch a few hours of sleep before heading out again, _ he thought to himself.

He turned his attention back to his pistol, and aimed down the sights again. The safety was on, but he still did this type of training every once in a while. Never hurt to stay on top of volatile magecraft like his.

He mimicked pulling the trigger and the recoil, followed by him quickly following up with his middle finger, extended to touch approximately where the bullet would’ve left the barrel a moment earlier. It was a light touch, hardly a flick. He repeated this motion many times.

_ Like pushing a marble… _ he reminded himself.

“Training, huh?” Berserker asked, startling Remia out of his trance.

He looked at Berserker with an arched eyebrow. “Can I help you?”

“Not really. Chiaki and I just finished our training. She’s resting now, so I thought it would be a good time to check in with you,” he replied.

Remia turned back to look out the window. “Ah… that thing you were askin’ me about back at the Manga Shop, right?”

Remia reached up, taking off his hat and scratching his head underneath it while he waited for Berserker’s response.

“Have you given it any thought?” was Berserker’s response.

“I already set the girl up with her dream man. The hell else you want me to do?”

Berserker was quiet for a few moments. “You were the one that saw how damaging my actions were to the people around me. You have a good instinct in looking out for other people. You’re the only person I know in this era that has that.”

“That ain’t a unique thing to me. Plenty of empathetic individuals that are  _ far _ better about bein’ nice than me. Besides, I don’t like bein’ tied down.”

“Then don’t be tied down. It wouldn’t be forever. And if there are other ‘empathetic individuals’, then why don’t you find one for her?”

Remia sighed and dipped his head, letting his forehead touch the window. “You really don’t want her to be alone, huh?”

“If there’s anyone that could do this, it’s you.”

Remia took a breath, fogging up the window. He took his head away from the window and put his hat back on, looking at Berserker. Berserker had his arms folded, and that same concerned look on his face. 

"You told her about this yet?” Remia asked.

“Not yet. No point if you didn’t agree.”

Remia shrugged. “Listen, Berserker-”

Remia’s eyes widened suddenly. A sudden shockwave radiated through his Magic Circuits, alerting him to something.

“What is it?” Berserker asked, taking a step towards him and unfolding his arms.

“Someone just broke through my Bounded Field,” Remia replied, looking out the window. Outside, he could vaguely see shapes moving through the trees. There was more than one.

“Remia! Archer! Berserker!” Lancer called, materializing into the room. “Enemies!”

“Yeah, a bit slow on the uptake,” Berserker growled, moving to the window.

“They’re damn fast,” Remia noted. They could’ve penetrated the castle three times over by now, but it looked like they were waiting.

Remia grabbed his pistol and holstered it.

_ Archer, can you tell what’s goin’ on out there? _ Remia asked.

_ Nothing good. There is a Servant, but… their presence is difficult to pinpoint, _ Archer replied.

_ Assassin? _

_ Might be. _

Remia turned and headed back into the castle. Berserker and Lancer were already gone.

Whoever just attacked them had the balls to try and take on Berserker and Lancer, the two-most highest ranked servants in terms of raw power, as well as Archer giving them backup. They were either stupid, or absurdly confident.

“This is gonna get ugly,” Remia grumbled to himself.

Good thing he had been practicing.

* * *

Assassin entered the cave. The old church he had holed up in with his Master had collapsed due to Berserker’s and Lancer’s fight, meaning he had to find a new place to keep his Master. He saw his attack on Berserker as payback for that inconvenience.

Of course, the fact that Archer had showed up, preventing Assassin from ensuring the job was finished was equally annoying. He’d have to pay Archer back as well. Still, he had confidence that the girl was dead. No one could receive an injury that severe and just recover without immediate medical attention. So he could put both her and Berserker out of his mind and focus on the task at hand.

Once he had spied a cave, barely visible on Mt. Ganz from the city, he had decided that its remoteness would be an ideal place for him to be. Of course, it had the advantage of being a very good place to observe the city from, as there was only about two or three miles of forest that separated the Mountain from the city itself.

He laid his Master on the ground. “I’ll see if there's still time to get some food. Don’t get your hopes up,” Assassin spoke to her.

Now that he was thinking about it, he should clear out the rest of the cave, since there might still be some wild animal that claimed this place as its own. Assassin began walking further into the cave. It was surprisingly dry, despite its entrance having a decline at it’s opening.

As he moved further and further in, his eyes adjusted to the dark. This cave was actually quite big…

The moment he had thought that, a wall came into view. But it wasn’t a natural wall. It was made to  _ look _ natural, but there was no way that a cave like this would be created naturally with such a sudden stop. Perhaps this had first been a mine of some kind, and they had sealed off the entrance… but then why try to hide it?

The rock face crumbled and began to slide away, startling Assassin and prompting him to draw his weapon. The rock wall disappeared into the sides of the cave. As he had suspected, the wall was fake.

But more pressingly, he felt something. He had only ever encountered one Magus his entire life before servanthood, but it was enough of an encounter for him to know what a powerful Magus felt like. And the man that walked out of the shadowy opening in the wall was very powerful, indeed. If he were to use the other Masters in this war as a scale, none of them, even combined, could match the sheer amount of Mana at this Magus’ disposal.

For a moment, and only for a moment, his mind had been tricked into believing that this new Magus was a servant. But it quickly rectified its mistake. He wasn’t a servant, but his power nearly rivaled one.

He was young, but clearly an adult. He had red, wavy hair.

He stepped out towards Assassin. “Hello, Assassin. We’ve got a lot to talk about.”


	14. It's All Fun and Games Until Zombies Invade

Saber was humming to himself as he came to the finishing touches of his beautiful project. He had gotten into the habit of entertaining himself while Loyuffon was off with Travick, training.

Sometimes he would go around and play “find the familiar”, in which he would destroy random items, trying to find which ones Travick had turned into familiars. Saber didn’t actually have a way of knowing if the item was a familiar or not, so he just destroyed things randomly. He assumed that the game would be over when Travick came to him and chewed him out for destroying the familiars.

Unfortunately, he was getting bored of that game, so he decided to play “stack the weapons”, where he stacked all the weapons on top of each other, trying to balance them like a castle of cards. He would raid the armory and head out to the terrace behind the mansion, and see how high he could make his tower of arms.

Only now did he realize that there was a very real chance that the weapons would fall on top of him, and he would likely be stabbed many times. Saber took a moment before placing the final weapon to decide whether or not it was worth the risk when he caught sight of someone out of the corner of his eye. They looked a bit dirty, with wrinkled clothes. They were thin, and yet… a bit chubby? No, they just looked bloated. Must’ve come from a neighboring feast or something. Saber paid her no mind and turned back to his conundrum.

The figure suddenly reached out and grabbed one of the weapons at the base of the stack.

“Hey wait, don’t touch that!” Saber protested. It was too late. The strange woman pulled a halberd from the base, and in a wave of deafening metal clangs, the whole thing came crashing down.

Saber instinctively jumped back, throwing his hands up in an attempt to block any weapons that might be headed into stabbing range of his face and/or body. Luckily, the weapons mostly fell off to the side, so he didn’t have much need to block.

Saber looked at the strange woman, who sluggishly moved towards him, dragging the halberd behind herself, making an irritating grating sound on the concrete terrace.

“Now look what you’ve done, peasant!” Saber shouted indignantly. The woman didn’t reply, merely moving forward with a dull expression. She smelled awful. Like seawater.

And she looked like she was trying to swing that halberd. At him.

Oh.

Saber quickly moved away from her and back towards the mansion. “Okay, so we may have gotten off on the wrong foot here. I understand that you are some kind of weird halberd enthusiast and my hostile attitude has brought us to confrontation. I apologize for my aggressive and misdirected anger. You can go your way, and I’ll go mine. This doesn’t have to go any further. Take the halberd, if you’d like.”

S he continued to move towards him, stepping over the cluttered pile of weapons like nothing.

I t was then that Saber realized that she wasn’t the only one. More of them came moving in onto the terrace. They all looked the same. Pale skin, bloated bodies, dull expressions.

" Ah. I see you have friends… I’m afraid there's only one or two halberds so…”

The strange people began picking up any weapon they could get their hands on. Swords, axes, spears, maces, hammers, all of them conveniently laid out for them to pick up and wield.

“Oh good… you seem to have a… healthy spread of interests,” Saber nervously called out.

Before long, an entire army of armed creepy zombie-like people were marching steadily toward him and the manor behind him.

“Oooooooh, I have done a bad thing,” Saber stated out loud. He turned on his heel, activated his Mana Burst, and rocketed into the manor, blasting through the doors. “ _ TRAVIIIIIICK _ !”

Saber shot through the various hallways of the mansion, quickly realizing that he never memorized the layout of the house, and had no way of knowing exactly where Travick and Trussa were training. Saber stopped in the middle of a hallway intersection. Maybe if he kept shouting, Travick and Trussa would find  _ him _ instead. That was a good idea.

He cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted with all his might for them. There was no response, which prompted Saber to shout out again.

He saw movement at the end of one of the halls, and joyously turned to go meet it. He then realized that it was just the horde walking into the house, likely attracted by him shouting. He immediately turned on his heel and dashed back further down the hallway, screaming as he went.

Just then, Travick turned the corner, causing Saber to crash into him and sending them both to the floor. Saber propped himself up, looking down at Travick. He was wearing merely slacks and a button-up with the sleeves rolled up to the upper part of his forearm.

“Oh. Hello, Travick. What are you doing here?” Saber greeted as casually as possible.

T ravick pushed Saber off of himself and stood up, brushing himself off. “Oh, I don’t know, just investigating the  _ loud idiot _ screaming his head off within the mansion.”

" Hm. Well, let me know if you find him. In the meantime,  _ I’VE BEEN CALLING YOU _ !” Saber shouted. He whirled, pointing at the horde moving towards them. “Creeps have gotten into the manor!”

Travick moved around Saber, adjusting his monocle. “How the devil did they get in? Wasn’t the door locked?”

“I mean, it  _ was _ until I unlocked it so I could go outside.”

" Why were you going outside?”

" So I could play ‘stack the weapons’. It’s like a house of cards, but with all the weapons from the armory.”

“So not only have you let the enemy right into our base, you have effectively disarmed us and armed the enemy?”

Saber fidgeted in his spot. “I mean, when you put it like that…”

Travick rolled his eyes. “No matter. We don’t know their individual strength, but we can at least outmaneuver them. Let’s see how many there are in total...”

Travick closed his eyes, focusing. He opened them a moment later, confused. “Impossible… my familiars are all gone!”

Saber tapped his fingers together. “Ah. See, about that…”

“You  _ cannot _ be serious right now.”

“Travick, you know me very well. You know that I am a warrior, and I only attain glory by fighting uphill battles!” Saber responded, throwing his chest out.

" Saber…” Travick growled, “...I am going to  _ murder _ you.”

" What’s going on, Travick?” Trussa asked, joining them in the hallway, dressed in what appeared to be workout gear. She looked a bit pale. Travick had said she had caught a cold of some kind…

She looked down and saw the horde of enemies nearly upon them. Travick put out his hands and started ushering the two of them back down the opposite hallway.

“Saber, this is  _ your _ mess. Dispatch them,” Travick ordered.

Saber turned and looked at Travick. “What? You expect me to deal with all these guys?”

" You’re a servant, they’re nothing compared to you.”

“Yeah, that might be true if I was a  _ good _ servant.”

Trussa moved past Travick, readying herself. “If you need help, Saber, I’ll fight with you!”

“Don’t be absurd, mistress, he is more than capable than dealing with them,” Travick responded, placing a hand on her shoulder and attempting to pull her back.

Trussa turned her head towards Travick. “Even if he doesn’t need our help, isn’t this a good chance to test my abilities? Why else would I train all this time?”

“Forgive my bluntness, mistress, but being  _ capable _ of doing foolish things does not mean we  _ ought _ to do such things,” Travick rebutted, keeping an eye on the wave of approaching monsters.

Trussa turned around to face Travick and stood in front of him, placing her hands on her hips. “Travick, am I not a Master in this Holy Grail War? Should I not fight to show my resolve?”

" This is different.”

" I don’t see how-”

“ _ Enough _ !” Travick suddenly exploded, silencing her. Trussa took a step back, looking hurt.

Travick took a deep breath and readjusted his monocle, which gave Saber the opportunity to spot something barely hidden by his rolled up sleeves. Had he worn longer sleeves, it would’ve been impossible for him to notice, but…

“Forgive me for that outburst, my young… mistress. That was inexcusable. However, it does not change my bearing. I am putting my foot down in this instance. It is too dangerous for you to face these enemies head on. We shall leave through the parking garage,” Travick softly spoke.

Trussa just stared at him, partly confused, partly saddened. Saber admitted that it was surprising, even to him, that Travick would speak out against Trussa like that.

“Okay… Travick,” she eventually said, turning and beginning to move down the opposite hall. “Good luck, Saber.”

The words surprised Saber. That was… odd. He felt the need to say something in return, but...

“Luck ain’t gonna help, sweetheart,” a gruff voice suddenly spoke. Saber then saw a living skeleton crouched in the middle of the hallway in front of Trussa. He had been sitting there, waiting. His arms were resting on his knees, and what appeared to be an old rusty harpoon leaned against his shoulder, but he was not holding it. Blue smoke slowly arose out of the skeleton’s eyes, mouth, and nose.

I n an instant, Travick jumped in front of Trussa, holding his arms out.

The skeleton threw its head back and laughed. “Fast reflex, seadog. But ye know, I coulda killed ye five times over by tha time ye even noticed I was here?”

Travick said nothing for a few moments. “What are you? You have the aura of a servant, yet…”

“Aye. Yer Master’s eye ain’t working quite right?” the skeleton snickered. He slowly rose to his feet, grabbing hold of his harpoon.

Travick looked to ponder something. “You must be Rider.”

“Heh. Not much point in hidin’ that anymore. Davy Jones, Rider-class.”

Saber felt a pit in his stomach growing. He was going to have to fight that thing?

Travick turned his head slightly, but kept his eyes on Rider. “Trussa. Head back down towards the training room. I shall be along shortly.”

Trussa said nothing, and did as he said. On one side of them, there was an enemy servant. On the other, a horde of enemies… just how was he going to-...

Wait a minute, just how far had the horde progressed while Saber had been standing still?

Saber whirled around in time for the strange woman to bring her halberd down on Saber’s head. Saber let out a scream. Much to his surprise, the blade blunted, bending upon impact with Saber’s forehead. Saber stared in disbelief. He looked down at his gauntleted hands. “I… I’m…  _ invincible _ .”

“Saber, you incompetent dolt, those ordinary weapons won’t have an effect on you, they’re completely non-magical. It’s as I’ve been saying this entire damned time,  _ you are a servant _ . The normal rules don’t apply to you. So for the love of all that is holy, stop acting like a coward and deal with them!” Travick growled.

Saber felt a strange calm come over him. This was it. This was his time. There was no need to be afraid! Not that he was afraid to begin with, mind you… but he was finally as powerful as he had always known he would someday be! And people said  _ hard work _ was the key to success...

The horde pressed in on him, and Saber puffed out his chest, letting the weapons bounce off him without any effect whatsoever.

He realized he should probably counter-attacking at this point. However, his sword was being used by someone in the back. He decided to go and get it.

His Mana Burst covered him, and he barrelled threw the enemies, their bodies being blown apart as he ripped through the throng of corpses. His hand reached out, and he snatched up his sword, yanking it out of the hands of the one who had been holding it. He flipped and landed, holding his sword in a pose that he thought made him look badass.

The rest of the horde turned to face him, slowly. Saber smiled to himself. Man, fighting was really fun as long as the enemy couldn’t actually hurt you. Saber began slashing his way haphazardly through the crowd. He didn’t have any real technique to his slashes, but the way the enemies flew away from him as he slashed them made him feel powerful.

“Saber! Cover me!” Travick suddenly called out. Saber looked, and saw Travick running towards the training room. Rider arched up, ready to pounce. Saber flew into action, immediately ramming himself into Rider, even though he was on the other end of the hall at the time. He never realized just how fast Mana Burst made him…

Rider went skidding back down the hall, and righted himself quickly, getting into a fighting stance. Saber did the same.

This was it. He was actually going to fight another servant! No tricks, no assistance, nothing. Just him and the enemy. Mano y mano.

R ider jumped and flipped in the air, throwing a kick downward into Saber’s head. Saber didn’t react in time due to not hearing the ‘3, 2, 1, Go’ that he assumed preceded every fight to the death.

Saber's head rocketed into the ground, getting stuck much like an ostrich. Saber pulled himself free, trying to dust himself off.

R ider laughed again. “Why don’t ye run off now? I let yer Master get away. I might let ye do tha same, so long as ye make it entertainin’.”

S aber just looked off into space. He really was outclassed, wasn’t he? Saber struggled to his feet, knees wobbling the entire way. He was terrified. And yet… he couldn’t bring himself to run away just yet.

He looked up, and saw that Rider was now right in his face. The skull with blue smoke billowing out of it seemed to stare right into his soul. “I can’t wait to hear how loud I can make ye scream.”

_ Now _ he could bring himself to run away.

Saber turned on his heel once more and bolted down the hall towards the training room. Travick was likely in there already, so he could receive support and an update on the plan to get out of here without attracting the attention of Rider, which Travick was definitely doing because there was  _ no way in hell _ that Travick actually thought Saber was going to fight that guy.

Saber opened the doors of the training room, and found that Travick stood alone in a large and empty room that had concrete as it’s floor. There were some benches and gym equipment off to one side, as well as a mat that was presumably to make working on concrete a lot easier.

S aber stopped and immediately turned, closing the doors and locking them. Hopefully those were magically reinforced, somehow, otherwise there wouldn’t be much time before Rider found his way in again.

" Travick! What’s the plan?” Saber asked.

Travick looked at him. “You were supposed to stay out there and distract him while I ensured Trussa’s safety. There is a secret passage in the changing room over there, where Trussa has already made her way to. However, she is still in danger should Rider find that passageway.”

Saber clapped his hands together. “Great! We should get going because that skeleton is gonna come barrelling through any second now-”

" You are not coming. You are staying to ensure that Rider does not follow us.”

" What? Travick, I can’t fight that freak!” Saber shouted.

" Then would you have me fight it instead?”

“Well, since you’ve volunteered…”

T ravick gave a deep sigh. He rolled up the entirety of his sleeve, revealing in full what Saber had seen earlier.

Command Seals. Two of them, by Saber’s understanding. “W-wait a sec, y-you’re not supposed to h-have those…” Saber spoke, pointing at them.

" No, I very much am supposed to have them. When the Grail chose me as a Master, I placed a single one of my Command Seals on Trussa. A useful trick I had learned from the overseer of a previous Grail War.”

S aber blinked. He got the feeling everything Travick was about to say was going to confuse or scare him.

T ravick lifted his arm, pointing it out at Saber. “Saber, by order of Command Seal, stay and fight Rider to the last.”

I nstantly, the flash of mana radiated out from the Command Seal and found its way to him. It covered him completely, clothing him in an invisible iron blanket. He couldn’t move for the moment. That was most likely because the only thing he would do if he  _ could _ move as run away.

" Y-you…” Saber managed to say as his body forcibly made his legs turn him around and face the door.

" I should’ve done this before. I had feared that if I forced you to commit suicide, Trussa would resent me. However, knowing that you merely fell in battle against Rider should be enough to quell her and allow me to summon another Servant. She has no way of knowing that I, too, possess Command Seals.”

The door in front of Saber rumbled as something smashed against it. It already began to buckle under whatever force was striking it. Saber wanted his legs to shake in fear, but they stayed steady, much against his own will.

“Goodbye, Saber. Or, well, considering I will be getting a new Saber, perhaps I should only call you Zahhak.”

Saber was going to die here. He was going to be killed, like he had before. Only this time, he had to stare death in the face as it came for him. Saber felt a well of anger begin to build within him that soon bubbled past the fear in his throat and turned into words.

" You. Are. Not. My. Master,” Saber growled through gritted teeth.

Travick didn’t say anything in reply for a moment. “Hm. How very poetic. Perhaps there was something you were good at after all…”

The door in front of him rumbled again, this time visibly breaking in response to the impact from the other side.

Then, a voice like an angel’s rang out. “Travick.”

“Mistress? Why are you here? You should be escaping!”

“Because I thought it would be improper for the head of the Loyuffon Family to run away when her own home was being attacked.”

Saber wanted to turn his head, but he only had a 180 degree field of view in front of him. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Trussa move and stand next to him.

“Mistress, I’m not sure what you heard-”

“All of it, Travick. And I’m none to pleased with you. However, we have more pressing matters,” Trussa spoke, as Saber, finally able to see her, witnessed her stepping up next to him.

“Young mistress, I must object and-”

Trussa whirled, facing Travick. “No.  _ I _ am Saber’s Master. And  _ I _ am putting  _ my _ foot down in this instance. Saber cannot face this enemy alone. And I will not simply throw him away because he can’t,” Trussa objected. It was the first time Saber had ever heard her raise her voice. Or be negative at all, for that matter.

“Trussa, think! What happens if you fall here? Your wish will never b-”

Trussa pointed a finger at Travick. “ _ My _ wish? I don’t have a wish, Travick.  _ You _ do. You trained me my entire life to participate in this war because  _ you _ wanted me to. And I was compliant. I was more than willing to train and fight and pretend that I didn’t know you were just using me. Because despite what you might think, you  _ aren’t _ my servant, you are my friend,” Trussa replied. "And for the longest time, you were my  _ only _ friend."

A silent moment passed between them all, interrupted only by another reverberation of Rider smashing the door. Eventually, Trussa took a breath and looked down at her workout gear, straightening it out temporarily.

“Sorry I had to raise my voice. I’m aware it’s quite unlady-like,” she continued, turning to face the door with Saber.

Another blow, and the door nearly came off its hinges. It was officially out of the doorway, and you could clearly see through to the other side, and the massive group of enemies clamoring to get in, as well as the skeleton who lead them.

Saber swallowed, staring at the oncoming storm.

“Now, if you’re done having a fit… we have guests to entertain,” Trussa spoke, smiling with tranquility. Despite the impending doom facing them now, Saber had to smile. She was kinda creepy. He liked that. She was also way more commanding than he ever thought she’d be. That might be useful in the future, when he was looking to charge underlings in his quest for World Domination… but for right now, he couldn’t be happier that it turned out she had a spine.

Saber became aware that Travick now stood at his right. “And I foolishly used a Command Seal to prevent the possibility of retreat. Forgive my… oversight, mistress.”

“It  _ was _ quite stupid,” Saber commented.

“Mm. How does it feel, Saber? To not be the idiot for once?”

“Wonderful. Wait, I mean-”

The doors went flying. One door came sailing over their heads, missing them by a mile. While the other spun like a top off to the side. Rider’s ever-grinning face came waltzing in, his army coming in behind him slowly.

“Ye’ll fergive me fer takin' so long. I’ve been told I play with my food too much. Not that it matters here. Yer all dead either way.”

Trussa crouched onto the ground, placing her hands onto the concrete below her.

“Saber, I would appreciate it if you would occupy Rider whilst Travick and I deal with his friends,” Trussa asked.

Saber furrowed his brow in response, but ended up smiling a moment later. “I’ll comply just this once. But don’t forget who's  _ really _ in charge here.”

Rider made a gurgling noise to himself. “Kill ‘em.”

The horde rushed forward, Saber grabbed his sword with renewed fervor. He blasted off, cracking the concrete beneath him. He aimed directly at Rider, swinging his sword sideways toward Rider’s head. Rider moved his head and backed away slightly, letting the sword pass him. He then took a step forward, wielding his harpoon in one hand and jabbing it at Saber’s face.

Saber initiated his Mana Burst, dodging away from the strike and then following up by darting behind Rider, trying to stab at his spine.

Rider saw it coming and immediately rotated, throwing out a kick. Saber dodged under it, and repositioned his strike upwards, slicing through Rider’s ribcage.

Saber jumped back, taking another pose that would definitely intimidate Rider. This wasn’t so bad. He was doing okay. Rider was pretty much better in every way, but Saber was able to land a hit. He wasn’t sure why or how, but he was able to. And that meant that Saber had a chance.

Rider suddenly fell over, to the side. There was no reason for it, not that Saber could see. His feet suddenly moved from beneath him for apparently no reason. Regardless, he didn’t want to let such an opportunity pass him up, so he charged forward, bringing his sword down in an overhead strike.

Saber felt pain as Rider’s harpoon entered his chest, directly in the center. Just the very act of it stunned Saber. He didn’t see it coming at all.

Rider suddenly jumped up, pressing down on Saber and attempting to bury his harpoon deeper into Saber’s chest cavity. Saber fell backwards, landing on the floor, and allowing Rider to loom over him.

Saber then swung wide with his sword, attempting to ward Rider off. This was futile, as Rider simply let go of his weapon and stepped out of the sword’s range before returning to his position. His foot bolted to Saber’s hand, pinning it and his sword to the ground.

“Yer a pathetic excuse of a warrior,” Rider mocked.

“I’m m-more suited to kingly d-duties like ‘giving orders’ and ‘getting massaged’. F-fighting really isn’t my forte,” Saber explained shakily.

Rider pulled his harpoon from Saber’s chest and raised it once more, aiming at Saber’s head like he was about to throw it at a whale.

Suddenly, a strange, stone-like creature jumped from behind Rider and threw a massive roundhouse kick into the side of Rider’s head. Rider stumbled to the side, but Saber could see that cracks had formed in Rider’s skull.

Saber immediately bolted up and repositioned himself away from Rider. A quick glance showed that most of the horde of enemies had already been dispatched somehow. Travick was standing calmly, adjusting his monocle, surrounded by the charred remains of them, while Trussa… appeared to be missing.

" Are you alright, Saber?” Trussa’s voice came from the stone creature.

Saber blinked and looked over at Trussa. The stone “face” of the thing seemed to rumble outwards and reveal Trussa’s face within it. Saber took a moment to process this information.

“You had armor like this the entire time, and you _ didn’t _ make me some, too?”

Trussa furrowed her brow and tilted her head. “But it’s not gold. I thought that was your thing.”

Saber went to reply but found none. “You’re right, good call.”

Rider suddenly exploded past them, taking Trussa with him and slamming her into the wall of the room. Saber Mana Bursted towards them immediately, ramming into Rider and trying to throw him off balance. While he succeeded, Rider still stood, and threw a backfist into Saber, knocking him back. Saber tried to recover, but ended up skidding along the ground.

Trussa’s concrete armored hand went straight out, smashing into Rider’s face. Rider stumbled back again. Saber heard Travick stomp his foot, and saw the ground beneath Rider shift to the side, taking his feet out from under him and making him fall, like Saber had seen last time.

Saber Mana Bursted towards Rider at the same time Trussa jumped, stomping her foot down on Rider’s arm, breaking it. Saber came dashing along and attempted to stab his head, but Rider swung his harpoon at Saber as he came by, making him back off to the side.

Rider scrambled to his feet, trying to make distance between them. He found himself stuck between the three of them.

Saber couldn’t believe it, but they had Rider cornered. Rider stayed still, keeping his one hand firmly placed on his harpoon. Without eyes, it was impossible to tell where he was looking.

A strange feeling came over Saber. He suddenly felt a lot weaker, and for whatever reason, Rider was far more intimidating to him than he had been for the past several moments. Saber tried to hold his ground, but found his hands beginning to shake.

“W-what… the hell is happening?” Saber muttered under his breath.

Travick sighed. “That would be the Command Seal wearing off. No matter. I shall take things from here,” he spoke.

Rider suddenly turned towards him. “Weak,” was all he said before he readied himself to attack. Trussa attempted to intercept, but her armor evidently made her quite slow, and it was obvious she was straining herself for keeping herself armored for this long in the first place. The illness she had gotten probably didn’t help either. Saber didn’t want to intercept at all, and in fact, was doing his best not to collapse into a pile of tears and pleas for mercy.

“Weak? I beg to differ. I pride myself on my combat abilities. I’ll have you know that before I became in the Loyuffon’s employ, I was quite a successful assassin of the underworld. Those were the old days, however…” Travick seemingly reminisced, adjusting his monocle.

Rider gave a deranged chuckle as he, somewhat unsteadily, made his way towards Travick.

“Travick!” Trussa shouted.

_ Do something. I ought to do something! _

" Hey!” Saber bellowed at Rider. Rider whipped about, staring at him fiercely, the very act of which made Saber shake even more than he had been previously. Saber wanted to backpedal. Clearly trying to challenge Rider right now was a mistake. However, his mouth moved on it’s own.

“Th-there’s only r-room for one v-villain in this s-story,” Saber nearly whispered.

Rider just continued to stare at him, unmoving.

“You’re an idiot for thinking that would work,” Travick called over Rider at Saber. Saber nodded feverishly in reply.

Rider turned back to Travick. “You’re all worse than tha last bunch… But yer far weaker, as well. I’ve got a lot of frustrations to let out. I’ll be taking my time with ye.”

Travick smirked. “Rider, you cannot fool me. You’ve been weakened. That skeleton you currently possess isn’t part of your Spiritual body. Maybe if you had a week to let it fully soak in your magical energy, you could return to full power. However, you haven’t had the time to adjust. By my estimate, you’re about on the same level as Saber.”

Rider reared up to attack, growling with sheer bitterness.

" Which means I can kill you quite easily,” Travick finished.

“Just try it, you monocle-wearing bespawler!” Rider roared, jumping through the air at Travick.

“This is not a monocle you ruffian,” Travick scowled, taking a firm grasp of his monocle.

" It’s proper name is ‘Mystic Eye Killer’.”

T ravick removed his monocle, and several beams of light suddenly surged from his eye, flying around in straight lines capable of changing course on a dime. The mass of lines converged on Rider as he came down. Saber was blinded as there was another flash of light, a deafening shockwave sound, and a blast of wind that nearly took him off his feet.

S aber instinctively curled up, holding his hands over the back of his head. It was all a cacophony of wind and sound for a bit. His eyes were shut tight, but he could tell from the heat that it was probably bright as well.

After a while, it all calmed down, Saber stopped feeling the barrage of small pebbles of rubble pelting him. Saber peaked out, and saw that the room was calm. He immediately jumped up and straightened himself out before anyone could see him cowering.

Rider, luckily, was nowhere to be found.

Trussa was in the process of peeling her armor off, one piece at a time. It appeared to be a lengthy process of her repeating two or three lines of chanting while her hand was placed on the piece in question. Afterwards, the concrete would melt off as if it were mud, and fall into the concrete below. 

Travick stood in the middle of the room with his one eye closed. The other gazing up at the ceiling. Following his line of sight, Saber now saw that the entire second floor and roof of the estate had been blown off, and they were now staring up at the early morning sky.

“I think you overdid it,” Trussa stated.

Travick took a deep breath, replacing his monocle over his eye. “It appears my own training was lacking in the manner of ‘restraint’.”

" W-what… was that?” Saber asked, looking at Travick.

“The Mystic Eye of Destruction. It has been the Loyuffon Family goal to reconstruct the Mystic Eyes of Balore. They attempted this by combining the Mystic Eyes of Disaster, Death Perception, and lastly, Destruction.“

“Huh. Lotta ‘D’s,” Saber noted.

“They had a long way to go. Their entire lineage up to this point had worked to create the Mystic Eyes of Destruction and then… someone murdered the heads of the family, leaving their newborn daughter as the heir, totally unprepared and unaware of her destiny,” Travick continued, now looking down.

Trussa moved forward, towards Travick, quite slowly. She looked paler now, and appeared to be very tired. “I know how much you miss them,” Trussa spoke softly.

Travick looked at her from the corner of his eye. It was a look that Saber had never seen Travick tout before. It was… sadness. Travick closed his eyes and shook his head. “That is no excuse for how I treated you, young mistress. I lied to myself, believing my actions to be what you would naturally want. I never once… imagined that you might not feel the same as me. Or perhaps that, too, is merely an excuse,” Travick continued. Trussa moved up next to him, and took his hand in hers.

Travick looked down at their hands. He sighed. “Oh, where did the years go. I used to be a young man, and you used to just be a child…” He looked up at Trussa’s face, just taking it in for a moment.

He cleared his throat and pulled his hand from Trussa’s soon after. He straightened up and folded his hands behind his back, looking forward. “That is more than enough sulking for my tastes. I shall accept whatever punishment you might have in store for me, young mistress.”

Trussa took a moment, smiling. She looked over at Saber and motioned for him to come closer. Saber did so.

“Your punishment, Travick, will be to compliment Saber on a job well done,” Trussa announced.

Travick’s nostrils flared open. Saber smiled widely. She really was kind of a sadist. He was going to enjoy this.

“Well done, Saber,” he forced out through gritted teeth.

“No, Travick, you have to do it nicely. And you have to  _ mean _ it,” Trussa immediately interjected.

" What? But I  _ don’t _ -” Travick began, looking at her in protest. Trussa raised her eyebrows at him.

“Go ahead, Travick, don’t be shy now,” Saber continued, placing an arm around Travick. “I know you secretly admire me for all my glory.”

Travick mumbled something under his breath. “Good job… distracting Rider... I suppose.”

“Oh, my pleasure, Travick, thank you for noticing my advanced strategeries that allowed you to kill Rider like that.”

Travick arched an eyebrow at Saber, breaking free of his grasp. “Rider is not dead. I may have destroyed the physical body, but I doubt anything less than a Noble Phantasm would be able to break his Spiritual Core. He’s shown the ability to possess bodies, so it’s very likely that he’s merely retreated. He’ll be back. Of that, you can be sure.”

He turned away from the now terrified Saber and towards Trussa. “Satisfactory, young mistress?”

“More than. Now go about making sure we can still use this place as a base. And if we can’t, go about finding a new one,” Trussa ordered.

Travick hesitated before responding. “Do you mean to tell me… that you wish to continue the Holy Grail War?”

T russa gave him a surprised look and then nodded. “Of course. I said before I was more than happy to help your achieve your wish, Travick.”

Travick looked a bit befuddled. He straightened himself, as well as his clothes. “Ms. Loyuffon. You are far too kind. I do not believe it to be pertinent for you to do so, but… I will also not dissuade you further. I shall commence on my tasks right away, young mistress,” he responded, giving a slight bow. He left the room quickly thereafter.

Trussa turned her head towards Saber, still smiling. Saber cleared his throat. “Well done placating the help, my minion. Now, I think our next strategery will be-”

" Thank you for calling me your Master,” Trussa interrupted.

Saber blinked. “Excuse me?”

“When Travick used the Command Seal on you. You said he wasn’t your Master. I guess that's not the same as saying that I was your Master, but… I appreciated it.”

S aber tilted his head and pointed a finger out ather. “Now listen-”

" I know, I know, I’m ‘not your Master’ either, and I in no way mean to imply that I could possibly be your Master. But really, it was a helpful realization, regardless of whether you meant it or not. You kind of have a knack for inspiring people.”

Saber wasn’t sure what to say. He merely shrugged and looked away.

“It’s really weird. I think, in a strange way, I could actually see you conquering the world. In an accidental, ‘failing upwards’ type of way,” Trussa smirked, moving towards the exit to the room as well.

Saber continued to stare where he had been staring before, not daring to even glance in her direction. “Thank you… for not, you know… throwing me away,” he eventually said.

T russa didn’t turn, and simply continued out of the room. “No need to thank me. I know you’d do the same for me.”

Saber waited long enough that she had definitely left the room before moving his hand up and brushing away a tear from his eye. He took a breath.

“Wait, Trussa! Have you ever heard of ‘stack the weapons’?” he called, following after her.

* * *

Mei was afraid for her life. The gang members that had kidnapped her and were in the process of holding her for ransom were little more than just thugs, and that's what made them so dangerous. They were so detached from the whole process that they had little else in their minds other than personal gain. And that meant that one could go awol and take advantage of the situation.

They could try and simply take her themselves for the ransom, or sell her. The very act of someone trying to take her could set off the others as well. That might lead to a firefight, in which she could die in the crossfire.

She hated this. She just wanted to go home to her boyfriend. She knew that her father would pay, but… the fact that it was taking him so long to do so worried her immensely.

She heard voices in the other room.

" Hey! Backup! Who the hell-”

H e was cut off by a scream, followed shortly by an onslaught of gunfire. It was exactly as she had thought would happen. They were fighting over who was going to keep her. And the one that survived would have blood on his hands. He wouldn’t be afraid of  _ anything _ . Least of all what would happen should he do the worst to her.

T he gunfire cutout.

" What the hell!?”

" What the fuck is that-”

They were silenced shortly thereafter by horrific sounds of flesh being parted. Had her mouth not been gagged, she would have tried to cover it to stay quiet. She couldn’t stop herself from whimpering past it, however.

There was silence for a little while. Then, movement, coming towards the door. Mei tried her best to keep quiet, or to calm herself. Not that it would’ve helped…

The door opened, and a man stepped in. “Mei? Are you okay?”

She couldn’t believe it. Bao?

He moved forward, fumbling with the ties on her hands. “It’s gonna be okay. We’re going to get you out of here.”

He succeeded in pulling the ties off her, and she immediately hugged him tighter than she had ever hugged anyone.

“It’s alright. You're safe now. Listen, I need you to do something for me, alright?”

She moved back, and he pulled the gag off her. “Bao, I don’t understand, did my father pay? What was all that noise?”

" Mei, just calm down. I need you to close your eyes, alright? Don’t open them for any reason. It’s just a short walk away, we’ll be in the car and you can open them there, okay?” Bao spoke.

“What? Why?”

" Just do it, alright?” Bao whispered harshly.

Mei was afraid. She never imagined that she would still be afraid after she had been rescued, but she was. And she didn’t know why. She closed her eyes, tightly. She didn’t want to see any dead people, as she assumed would be present in the room they would be going through.

Bao quickly guided her through the room. It smelled strongly of alcohol and blood. She knew it. They were dead. A cold wind hit her in the face, and she opened her eyes out of surprise. They were outside, and the cold night air had slapped her as she exited the thug’s hideout.

They were on the docks. The ocean was not too far away. Bao continued to guide her quickly towards his car that had been parked across an opening, about 100 meters away.

More shouting came from behind them. “No! No, please, I’m not with them! They were-”

Mei knew better than to look behind her. There was another scream that was cut short, and then silence.

They were nearly to the car. “Bao… what the fuck is going on?” Mei pleaded, tears beginning to fall from her eyes.

“I found someone that could help,” was his simple reply. He just stared ahead, a stern look on his face.

Bao opened the door of the car and let Mei get in. She, out of the corner of her eye, saw the Stranger. Or rather, she saw his reflection. He walked slowly towards the car. He was covered in blood. Was he… the ‘help’ that Bao found?

“Th-thank you!” Bao shouted at the Stranger, quickly moving to the driver’s seat and starting the car.

The Stranger was suddenly by the car window, scaring both of them. They screamed as a result, but the Stranger didn’t react, and didn’t make any motion towards them at all. In the dark of night, it was impossible to see what he looked like.

They were both breathing heavily, just staring at him as he stared at them. He slowly reached up and knocked on the window.

Bao reached to roll down the window, but Mei desperately reached over to try and stop him.  _ Don’t _ , she mouthed at him.

Bao gave her a scared smile. “Honey… the window wouldn’t stop him if he wanted to hurt us.”

Mei could do nothing but stare in wide-eyed horror as Bao opened the window.

“Were these the only men who accosted you and your kin?” he spoke.

His voice was terrifying. It was condemnation. Deep, calm, condemnation. It was like a guarantee that he was going to kill them one day. There was no recourse. No matter what they did, where they went, who they became… he would find them and be their deaths.

“Yes,” Bao replied shakily.

T he Stranger made no indication that he heard Bao speak. He simply turned, starting to walk back towards the hideout.

B ao put the car in gear and took off, leaving the docks behind. In the future, they would have nightmares of that night, but neither of them ever saw the Stranger again.


	15. The Invitation

It was lightly raining. More of a sprinkle, than anything. There was a massive amount of water-filled corpses pushing their way through the forest. Remia sat on top of Old Einzbern Castle and looked down at the hundreds of them pouring from between the trees and attempting to break in to the castle.

He had many thoughts. The first of which was that he was saddened that so many had died in order to make this horde. The second of which was his satisfaction of knowing that he and his allies would be safe for the time being. This massive horde of enemies was slow and comparatively weak, so there was no way they would be breaking in to the Castle any time soon.

The third thought was his frustration in not knowing exactly where to go from here. Aside from ferrying people out, one by one, with Archer’s Noble Phantasm, there was no way to get people out of the castle without having to deal with the horde. He would prefer not to have to kill any of the corpses… a redundant action in the first place, he realized. But regardless, if there was a chance in saving them, Remia wanted to find it before having to destroy them. And of course, Lancer and Tohsaka didn’t want to leave the castle at all on account of losing a well-protected and very useful base of operations. There didn’t seem to be a good answer.

The fourth and final thought was the undeniable fact that there was more to this whole situation than could be seen. He had seen fast-moving things within the forest at first, and these “zombies” were anything but fast. That meant that there were other players out there today. This horde was a distraction, or a delaying tactic.

If Lancer had predicted correctly, they were counting on their indecision to prevent them from going anywhere. The only question left was why. They had three servants all together… What weapon did they have that allowed them to fight against them all at once, one that required them to wait?

Remia looked up at the sun as it hung in the air. It was shortly before Noon, and the horde outside had still done nothing. He unholstered his pistol and pointed it out towards the horizon. Might as well get some practice in.

“Hey,” Chiaki greeted, stepping out onto the roof.

Remia looked over his shoulder, slightly surprised. “Hey. They come to an agreement yet?”

“Not yet,” Chiaki replied, sitting down next to Remia and wrapping her arms around her legs. “There wasn’t a whole lot I could contribute. The shouting was also giving me a headache.”

“You don’t need to explain yourself. I don’t mind you comin’ out here,” Remia replied, putting his gun away. “Though… you sure you can leave Berserker alone?”

“I think he can control himself enough around Lancer now… if not, I’ll just call him back with a Command Seal.”

“Well… I was talkin’ ‘bout makin’ sure he don’t go out and impregnate somebody.”

Chiaki raised her eyebrows. “Ew. He’s not  _ that _ loose, is he?”

“All I know is that he was willin’ to get  _ real _ close to an elderly lady not that long ago. Any man with that kind of sexual constitution should be watched carefully.”

“Can Heroic Spirits even get people pregnant? Like, if they… ‘do it’ with normal humans?”

“Hell if I know. Luckily, I doubt anyone’s been dumb enough to try and find out.”

“...Berserker.”

Remia smiled and nodded. “Touche.”

Chiaki smiled too, and looked out at the horizon for a while. Eventually, she spoke up a second time. “What were you doing when I came out? Checking the sights?”

Remia gave a half-shrug. “Kinda. I was practicing my magecraft.”

“You have to practice with a gun?”

Remia chuckled. “Is it that mind blowin’? Plenty of spellcasters use guns.”

Chiaki didn’t respond right away. “I didn’t know you were a spellcaster. Guess I should’ve figured. With the gun, and all.”

“I told you as much before, didn’t I?”  
“I think you did… but I guess I never really pictured someone like you being a spellcaster.”

“Someone like me? The hell’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing, I just… figured spellcasters were all seedy underworld types that only used magecraft to get money or commit crimes or whatever.”

Remia tilted his head, thinking for a moment. “Well, you ain’t wrong. In my experience that describes pretty much every Magus in general, though. But yeah, I’ve only ever used magecraft as a means to an end.”

“What's your end?”

Remia leaned back, resting on his hands. “Well, nothin’, now. I completed my goal already. Nothin’ left for me to do ‘cept see the war to its end and hope I can grant my Servant’s wish.”

Chiaki looked at him quizzically. Remia noticed.

"What about you? What’s your end goal?” he said, changing the topic.

Chiaki looked away, towards the horizon. “...Revenge.”

“No kiddin’? Me, too.”

Immediately, Chiaki looked at him again, another puzzled look on her face. “What?”

“Yeah, this whole war we’re in now? My idea. The fact it's happenin’ is the result of my revenge.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“As a heart attack,” Remia smiled, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. “You know… not many people know this, but I’m native.”

“Native?”

“Native American, that is. One-eighth Lakota. I know I don’t look it, but it's true. When I learned - I was about twelve or thirteen at the time - I set off to learn all I could. I found my grandmother, and she told me all about how she, and therefore I, was the descendant of this great hero from centuries ago…”

Remia took a moment for Chiaki to put it together. He smiled when she gasped.

“No way… Archer?”

“Damn straight. You wouldn’t believe how excited I was. I ran off to join the tribe, only to find out they wouldn’t let me be a part of the tribe on account of me not even lookin’ remotely Native. They wouldn’t let me in as an honorary member much less as a revered descendant of Crazy Horse.”

“Crazy Horse?”

_ Ah damn. _

“Which was good, because I didn’t even  _ want _ to be a part of his bloodline in the first place because he had nothin’ to do with me and was  _ definitely _ not my ancestor,” Remia tried to recover, turning towards Chiaki.

She was just half-smiling, a little bit wide-eyed.

“Goddammit,” Remia grumbled shaking his head, turning back towards the horizon. “You forget I said anything, alright?”

“Well that’s going to be difficult since you totally did say something.”

“But, all the somethings I said were definitely not secrets of anyone's identity.”

“I think they were.”

“You ain’t lettin’ this go, are you?”

“Nope.”

Remia sighed and shook his head. “Don’t tell ‘im I told you, at least.”

Chiaki shrugged and smiled to herself. After a moment, she spoke again. “What happened? With the tribe?”

“I told ‘em I deserved to be a part of the tribe as a descendant of… a non-descript Native hero, but they didn’t listen. They said they wanted to ‘keep their bloodlines pure’ or some nonsense. Well, I had no choice in the matter. I had burned bridges in order to recognize my blood, so I had nowhere to go back to. I just wandered around for a while, thinkin’ I would find a new home… and then twenty years passed me by,” Remia spoke.

He looked back out to the horizon, letting his memories flood through him for a while. “Learned magecraft just to help pay the bills. Got thrown out of the Mage’s Association ‘cause they didn’t approve of my Magecraft. Went from place to place, just lookin’ for a place to belong. So many people came in and left my life. One day, I just gave up, decided to live alone.”

The clouds started to drift apart from one another. The sun peeked through, but the rain didn’t stop.

“That’s… really sad,” Chiaki replied.

Remia shrugged. “Didn’t mean to depress you or nothin’. Everyones got their hardships, mine ain’t so special. It came to a head when one day I woke up and just… hated the idea that my life could’ve been so much different if they let me in that tribe. So like a spiteful bastard, I made a plan.”

Remia stood up, taking off his hat and looking at it. “I learned about the Holy Grail Wars. I went to the Mage’s Association and pitched my idea - the idea to have one last war to help revitalize Magecraft… but that was a lie. I was the first Master to receive Command Seals, and the moment I did, I went back to those bastards - the same ones who had rejected me from the tribe. Most didn’t even remember me… but I got ‘em all together and I put ‘em in a room. And in plain view of ‘em all, I summoned my own ancestor by using my own blood as a catalyst. Just to prove to the entire goddamn room that I was always meant to be there.”

The wind came by, washing Remia’s face with a cold embrace. He closed his eyes and let it come by.

“You started an entire Grail War so you could metaphorically slap some old dudes who wouldn’t let you in their group two decades ago?” Chiaki summed up.

Remia pursed his lips and opened his eyes, putting his hat back on. “Yeah, well, when you put it like that, it sounds stupid.”

“It’s awfully petty revenge.”

“Ain’t all revenge petty? And besides, it ain’t about not bein’ included,” Remia explained, turning and looking at Chiaki. “They denied me a chance to have a real family.”

Chiaki seemed to think about his words. After a moment, she looked down, away from Remia's gaze. “Remia… what exactly are you going to do after this war is over?”

Remia tilted his head, folding his arms in response. This was the same question he had asked himself many times. “Nothin’. Like I said, I’ve already achieved my goal. I don’t got a place to go… so I might as well just keep seein’ the world until somewhere feels like home.”

“Well, that's nice, but… I’m not sure home is a place,” Chiaki replied, looking up at him. “I know it sounds corny, but home is wherever the people you love are. But you said… you don’t have anyone? Not even a sibling? A friend? Anyone?”

Remia blinked. He took off his hat and scratched his hair before placing his hat back on his head. “No. And I don’t see the need for one. I’ve lived just fine on my own for more than half my life. I don’t need a companion.”

Remia moved past Chiaki, heading for the inside. He had grown uncomfortable with this conversation.

“Do you  _ want _ one?” Chiaki asked. Remia stopped dead in his tracks. This girl… did she know what Berserker had asked him?

“You volunteerin’?” Remia challenged, stepping to turn and look Chiaki over his shoulder. She turned her head as well, looking at him the same way.

“No… but if you wanted to hang around me and Berserker… I mean, just for a little while,” Chiaki offered.

_ Ah, _ Remia thought,  _ she has no idea. _ He felt the anger in him cool down.

“You realize…” Remia began. He stopped himself. It wasn’t his place to say. There was no reason to out Berserker like that. It was… easier this way. “That don't sound too bad. I might give it a shot. We’ll see.”

A moment passed, and Chiaki turned her head back out to the horizon, but stood up. “I’m going back inside. Too wet out here.”

Despite facing away from her, he could hear the smile in her voice. As she turned, sure enough, she was smiling. Remia smiled at her as she moved past him. “You coming?” she asked.

Remia shook his head. “Nah. I should still do some practicin’. The enemy could attack at any-”

The enemy attacked. There was a flurry of movement. Neither Remia nor Chiaki could perceive exactly what happened, but before they could even realize it, Archer was standing at the edge of the roof, his blade locked with Assassin’s.

Remia reacted first. “Get down!” he shouted, running for Chiaki and tackling her back inside the building. Regrettably, he forgot that the roof access from the attic was by ladder, so they plummeted three meters before landing on the wood of the attic.

Remia shot up, feeling a little bit bad that Chiaki took the brunt of their impact. Regardless, he moved towards the ladder of the roof again, gun at the ready. However, Archer fell down from the roof access, preventing his ascent.

“Are you alright?” Archer asked, his weapons still drawn.

“I’m fine, what happened to Assassin?” Remia asked, looking up towards the hatch.

“He vanished as soon as you entered the building with Chiaki. He is avoiding a direct fight,” Archer explained, continuing to look around.

“You can still sense him?” Remia asked for clarification.

“Yes. He can turn himself invisible, but he cannot hide his presence well.”

“Well, how the hell are we supposed to catch him?”

“I do not think we can,” Archer replied, “We can only stay by one another and be prepared.”

Chiaki stood up, dusting herself off and coughing a bit. Remia turned toward her, clearing his throat. “Ah, sorry about that.”

Chiaki gave him a look. “What made you think that was a good idea?”

“Gettin’ away from Assassin? I dunno, maybe ‘cause he was tryin’ to kill us? How about a ‘thank you’?”

“For tackling me and nearly breaking my back?” Chiaki protested.

“I was thinkin’ more like for savin’ your life.”

“Perhaps we should focus on the enemy at hand?” Archer interjected.

Remia glowered for a moment, but knew he was right. "Alright, so we're trapped in a castle with few options of escape and an Assassin runnin' around inside of it, waitin' for one of us to be alone. That about right?"

"About," Archer replied.

"Does this mean Assassin and Rider are working together?" Chiaki asked.

"Unfortunately, it most likely does," Archer answered.

Remia moved towards the stairs leading further into the castle. “Let’s meet up with the others,” he said, descending the stairs. He heard Chiaki following close behind, and Archer a little further back, though Remia heard Archer stop half-way down the stairs.

Once he was at the bottom, Remia looked back up at Archer, past Chiaki. Archer was staring off to the side, seemingly at the wall. “A new Servant has entered the area.”

“A new Servant?” Remia asked. “It ain’t Lancer or Berserker?”

“No. I can tell. It is different.”

Suddenly, Chiaki bolted forward, pushing Remia to the side. An instant later, he felt the back of his head get sliced open. It wasn’t deep, luckily, but he could still feel blood begin to seep out of the wound. He turned his head in time to see Assassin, arm outstretched with a semi-bloodied knife.

A flash of movement, and Remia was caught by Archer before he hit the ground. Chiaki had pushed Remia out of the way of Assassin’s strike. Unfortunately, Assassin had taken advantage of Archer’s temporary distraction of catching Remia.

Assassin now stood several feet away, one arm wrapped tightly around Chiaki’s neck. The other pushing the knife up against her cheek.

* * *

“So… he wasn’t lying. You really did survive my last attack…” Assassin grumbled.

Chiaki had seen Assassin begin to uncloak himself. She also knew that he was far faster than any human could possibly be. She also knew that he was likely going to attack Remia. She also knew that if she pushed him out of the way, she’d probably be killed or seriously hurt.

All these things she knew. Of course, she didn’t think about any of that when Assassin began to uncloak. She just jumped, pushing Remia out of the way. The next thing she knew, she was in his grasp, being threatened by his knife.

Remia whipped out his gun and pointed it at Assassin. Archer did the same, leveling his rifle on Remia’s shoulder.

“Don’t do nothin’ stupid now…” Remia warned.

Assassin aimed his faceless stare at Remia. His voice was gravelly and made her flinch when he spoke. The fact he was basically speaking right into her ear didn’t help. “Heh. You’re an idiot. You think that I couldn’t have just killed her and turned invisible again in that ever-so-useful period you two dullards were distracted? The only reason she’s still alive right now is because  _ he _ wants her that way.”

Remia arched an eyebrow. “He?” He inched closer. It wasn’t even a full step. He was just sliding his front foot closer to Assassin.

“The Man Under the Mountain,” Assassin replied.

A woman was suddenly standing next to Assassin. She wore a revealing white dress and a mask. Extended from her fingers were long claws that were pinched tightly around the knife. 

The blade suddenly disintegrated. “Oops,” the woman spoke.

Chiaki heard a rush of wind, and Assassin was suddenly no longer behind her. In an instant, she called her Lightning Cestus to her hands and spun, expecting him to be not far away, or preparing a counterattack.

Much to her surprise, however, the woman was now standing with her back to Chiaki, facing down Assassin, who was at the end of the hall. “Don’t worry your cute little self over such an impotent enemy,” she said. Chiaki was more than a little surprised. Having a better view, Chiaki could see that the woman also held a staff in her hand, and there were horns on her head.

Archer was suddenly standing between Chiaki and the woman now, pointing a bayonet at her. “Caster,” he spoke.

“Oh, put your weapon away, you silly man. What makes you think I want to hurt you  _ or _ her?” Caster chided, not turning around, yet seemingly completely aware of what Archer was doing.

“What makes you think I trust you simply because you did not take the first opportunity to attack?”

“Time and a place, guys,” Chiaki spoke, moving slightly to the side so she could keep her eyes on Assassin. Chiaki’s eyes widened when she realized that Assassin was bleeding. Heavily.

His arm looked completely shredded. It was as if he had stuck it in a grinder. Assassin growled something to himself and disappeared once more.

Caster reached out her hand. “No.” She snapped her fingers, and green lightning erupted down the entire expanse of the hallway. It folded around Assassin’s invisible silhouette, having found him easily. Assassin screamed in pain as it coiled around him, piercing into him.

Caster flipped her staff and pointed it at him, sending a giant green beam of energy soaring down the hallway. It exploded, sending a shockwave and a deafening roar their way. Chiaki felt the impact move through her, moving her hair back.

She blinked, and as the dust from the explosion cleared, Assassin was gone.

“What a slippery fellow…” Caster murmured. She turned, looking at the end of Archer’s blade… or Chiaki assumed she was looking at it. The mask she wore prevented Chiaki from seeing exactly what she was looking at.

“If you’re going to attack me, attack me. If you’re just going to wave that thing in my face, then kindly move aside. I just saved your lives, I would expect at least a  _ small _ thank you?”

No one responded. Chiaki didn’t want to speak for the others, but she was planning on using her Lightning Cestus to shock Assassin the moment he dropped his guard. He only had one arm around her neck, which meant his hold wasn’t great. If she could surprise him by punching him in the face with her Cestus, it’d stagger him enough that she could slip out by turning her head. Her hair might get caught, but she’d be away from the knife, which would give Remia and Archer the opportunity to follow up with an attack. However, Caster jumping in and simply throwing Assassin off her disallowed her to show off what she had learned last night, and she was more than a little ticked off. If someone was going to thank Caster, it definitely wasn’t going to be her.

“Thank you, Caster. To what do we owe the pleasure of having you visit us today?” Remia spoke slowly, moving up beside Chiaki with his gun still drawn, though it was no longer aimed at Caster.

“My Master asked me to come and make some good relations with all of you. He’s worried that you’ve all allied with one another, and he’s being left out in the cold.”

“So if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em?” Remia replied.

Caster tilted her head. “In a manner of speaking.”

Berserker and Lancer arrived, turning a corner down the other end of the hallway, near where Assassin had been.

“Caster!” Lancer shouted, readying his spear.

“Ugh… can we not go through all this again? I’m not here to hurt anyone!” Caster grumbled.

Lancer bolted down the hall, twirling his spear. He was suddenly caught, being pulled back by Berserker. Lancer shot him a hateful look, but Berserker ignored him, moving past him.

It took Chiaki a moment to realize what was about to happen. The look on Berserker’s face said it all… she folded her arms and stifled a groan.

“Who are you and why have we never met?” Berserker greeted with a smile, walking casually up to Caster.

Caster looked at him and tilted her masked head at him. “My eyes are-”

“-behind a mask, regretfully. I’m sure they’d make the stars in the sky jealous, if only I could see them. Until that time, I’ll console myself by looking upon a form that would put Aphrodite to shame.”

Much to Chiaki’s surprise, she seemed to relax a bit. “No need to use flowery language on me. I think we’re on the same page, sweetie,” Caster crooned, placing a hand on Berserker’s chest. She turned her head and looked at Chiaki over her shoulder for a sec, seemingly detecting her ill will. She turned and faced her fully. She was a few centimeters taller than Chiaki, so she had to look up at her. She hated that, for whatever reason.

“This cutie’s yours?” Caster asked Berserker, looking down at her. She bent at the waist, examining her.

“I’m not a pet,” Chiaki stated gutterally. 

Caster giggled. “So uptight!” She took a moment, tilting her head. Her clawed hand came up and lightly stroked Chiaki’s cheek. “I’d enjoy helping you unwind.”

Berserker was suddenly beside Chiaki, prying Caster’s hand away from Chiaki’s face. “I’m afraid that’s a step too far,” Berserker spoke, his face surprisingly stern.

Caster turned her head towards Berserker and shrugged. “Well… not where I was hoping you’d grab me. I guess we still have a ways to go.”

And like that, Berserker’s usual ways took over. A smile reappeared on his face. “Not quite my style.”

“Pity. I was in the mood for a bit of roughhousing.”

Chiaki had a sudden and almost uncontrollable urge to punch her in the face. She might’ve followed through on it had her mask not been hiding whatever annoying face she was probably making.

“I think I speak for everyone when I say we’ve had enough of that,” Remia interjected. “Lancer, where’s Tohsaka?”

“Safe. I shouldn’t say exactly where, given our present company,” Lancer replied, returning his spear to spirit form and folding his arms.

“I wouldn’t leave Ms. Tohsaka alone. Assassin might still be around,” Chiaki suggested, walking around Caster and Berserker.

“She isn’t. And Assassin has left,” Lancer exposited.

Chiaki looked over her shoulder at Berserker, who nodded. “Unless he got better at hiding his presence, he should be gone. Stick by me, just in case,” Berserker said.

Chiaki nodded, eyeing Caster.

_ Not too close, I’d imagine, _ she spoke to him telepathically.

_ I’m not sure I know what you mean, _ Berserker replied, smirking.

“What do we do with her?” Archer spoke, his blade still drawn and pointed at Caster.

“Well, you could let me go, for one,” Caster replied.

“You really think that we’d believe you ‘coincidentally’ happened to be dropping by our area, happened upon Assassin attacking us, happened to be in a good enough mood to save Berserker’s Master, and we’d just be grateful to allow you in our alliance?” Lancer asked, moving forward slightly.

“Of course not. I was only supposed to be doing reconnaissance. However, I saw the opportunity to earn your trust, if only for the moment. You’d’ve attacked me on sight had I tried to approach you directly,” Caster explained.

“So you earned the right to not be executed immediately, but that’s about it,” Lancer challenged.

“Lancer, that’s enough. We should hear her out,” Berserker interjected.

“No. I was putting up with your simple-minded interactions with her thus far, but this is ridiculous,” Lancer growled at him.

Berserker stepped towards him. “If she’s lying to us, we can defeat her later as easily as right now.”

“You saw her fight, Berserker, that is not a good idea. Set aside your feelings,” Archer added in.

Berserker turned, looking at him. “I’m not going to kill her.”

“ _ You _ don’t need to,” Lancer growled, moving past Berserker and towards Caster.

Berserker became a blur of movement, and Lancer was suddenly being tossed back through the hall.

“Berserker!” Chiaki called out.

Lancer flipped and landed easily. “You wretched-!” he roared. There was an explosion of light, Lancer summoned his armor to him.

Chiaki tried to shout at them to stop, but they were too fast. There was another flurry of movement, and before she could even utter a single syllable, Berserker and Lancer were at each other. Lancer’s spear was pointed directly at Berserker’s throat, and Berserker had a fist arched towards the side of Lancer’s head. They seemed to be frozen. It soon became clear why.

Between them, with a hand on each, was Caster.

Chiaki could clearly see now that the two of them had a strange light green glow to them… though she couldn’t quite place the source. Caster was holding them in place with some kind of magical ability.

“As excited as it makes me to see two young men getting so worked up over little old me, I think you ought to save your strength,” Caster spoke. She squeezed out from between them and sauntered off to the side of the hall. Berserker and Lancer stayed frozen where they were.

“I have plans to lure Rider inland tonight. If any of you are interested, you can meet me and my Master at Liselotte Tower downtown. You might remember it as our old base. Anyway, if you want to come help kill Rider, or come help kill  _ me _ for that matter, you’re free to join us.”

She reached out her hand, but waited a moment. “Hm. Perhaps I’ll give you another demonstration. A show of good faith, shall we call it?” Caster spoke. She snapped her fingers, and Berserker and Lancer were freed from their paralysis.

After a moment of hesitation, both brought their respective weapons away from one another, both turning to face Caster.

Caster waved her hand, and the wall in front of her vanished in a green shimmer. The horde of undead greeted them from a few stories down. She lifted her staff and pointed it out, perpendicularly. A light, see-through green orb formed at the tip of her staff.

“Caster, wait for a moment,” Berserker spoke, reaching out a hand.

One side of the orb expanded rapidly, growing like a balloon, and losing its spherical shape in the process. It moved like a demented bubble, stretching down onto the horde of undead who seemed compltely unaware of this strange phenomoena.

“What are you doin’? Don’t try to-” Remia began.

However, it was too late. The field of energy snapped back to Caster’s staff in an instant, and the horde of zombies fell, as if they were synchronized dancers at the end of a routine. The bubble, still at the end of Caster’s staff, now had a bright light shining within it.

“There. That ought to take care of your little ‘undead’ problem,” Caster explained, waving her off hand and causing the wall to return in another shimmer of green light.

The other Masters and their Servants only looked on in bewilderment.

“Caster… what did you do?” Archer eventually asked gravely. Chiaki had never heard him speak like that before.

“Hm? I just tore their souls out. It really only works on lesser bodies, but it's a useful trick for clearing away trash,” Caster explained casually, looking at the orb of bright light at the tip of her staff.

She turned. “Farewell, then.”

“Wait!” Berserker cried, reaching out a hand.

She faded away, disappearing from view.

“Where did she go?” Remia asked, looking to Archer and Lancer. “She can’t have gotten very far. You guys can still see her even when she’s in Spirit Form, can’t you?”

Only Lancer spoke. “It must’ve been a teleportation spell of some kind. She’s gone.”

“All those souls…” Archer glowered.

Silence filled the hallway once more.

Chiaki didn’t want to speak up. She knew that ripping those souls out of the people wasn’t what any of them wanted… but Chiaki was far more scared by the fact that Caster was capable of doing something like that in the first place. Not to mention the amount of mana she might’ve been able to obtain through that ritual was absolutely staggering.

“She’s powerful. Her Witchcraft was strong enough to bypass your Magic Resistance,” Tohsaka noted, having entered the hallway from the same direction that Lancer had.

Lancer dipped his head, thinking.

“We are going,” Archer stated, turning and passing by Remia.

“Well hold on now, Archer, we don’t-”

“We. Are. Going,” Archer reiterated as he continued down the hall, unfazed.

Chiaki looked at Berserker, waiting for him to say something. He didn’t. He kept his eyes on where Caster had been.

“Yes, I think it's best if we go,” Lancer spoke up. “Even if it's a trap, with the three of us together, we could defeat her and Rider.”

Berserker still didn’t say anything. He slowly turned, and looked at Chiaki. “Well, Master? What do you think?” he asked.

Chiaki blinked. She became aware that both Lancer and Archer were looking at her as well. She realized that they would likely only go to Caster’s meeting place tonight if all three servants agreed to go. It was her decision.

She cleared her throat. She could feel the heat coming to her face. She wasn’t used to this sort of thing. “Um… yeah, if you think we should.”

“I know what I think. I want to know what you think,” Berserker replied, much quicker than Chiaki anticipated.

Chiaki had no idea. She didn’t know what they should do. She looked down at her feet and thought for a moment.

What were the benefits? They could remove Rider and Caster from the war. They could also eliminate Rider and gain a new ally in Caster. Of course, they’d have to kill Caster eventually… which made Chiaki recognize an important question to ask.

She looked back up at Berserker. “Will you be willing to kill Caster?”

Berserker arched an eyebrow at her. “Of course.”

_ You say that easily right now… but I wonder what you’ll do when the time comes… _ Chiaki thought to herself.

Chiaki cleared her throat and stood up straight. “Then… yes. Let’s do it.”

* * *

The Other Caster leaned over the table, examining the bones further.

He had obtained these from the morgue of the local hospital from a cadaver. He was in the process of strengthening them… though without any practice in Reinforcement Magecraft, he could only do so much.

Caster appeared behind him. “Invitation sent.”

“Good. At least  _ someone _ is capable of doing their job.”

_ Mind yer words, ’Master’. _

“Mind yours. Now that your original Command Seals were destroyed with that body, you’ve officially made a new contract with me, which means my Command Seals can now have an effect on you. You should be thankful for the fact that I’m taking the time to even build you a new body even though you failed to capture Saber,” the Other Caster replied.

“He couldn’t capture Saber?  _ Saber _ ?” Caster laughed.

_ I’ll murder that harlot. Twasn’t even Saber that beat me, ‘twas that seadog, Travick. _

Travick Dormir… he had heard the name in the intervening 25 years between this and the previous Holy Grail War he had been summoned in. Dormir was a powerful and feared Magus that seemingly disappeared somewhere around 15 years ago. To imagine that he’d show up here…

Was totally irrelevant. The Other Caster shook his head and refocused on the task at hand.

Another Servant approached. They were close, which meant they hid their presence for a while to get this close. Assassin.

Other Caster found a knife at his neck. “Master!” Caster shouted.

“Stand down,” Other Caster ordered.

He couldn’t see, but he imagined Caster didn’t move, otherwise Assassin would’ve sliced his throat.

“I did what you asked,” Assassin spoke. “Your whore got a little carried away, destroyed my knife. She also shocked me a bit more than necessary. We had a deal.”

“One I’ll satisfy once you take your knife away from my throat,” Other Caster spoke.

“So you can kill me like you killed Rider’s Master? I don’t think so. My price just went up. Now tell me what I want to know, and do it with a knife at your neck,” Assassin responded.

Other Caster scowled. The information Assassin wanted to know was inconsequential to Other Caster’s plans… but the fact that Assassin could even ask the question made him suspicious. Especially about this ‘Man Under the Mountain’ Assassin had mentioned. Regardless, Other Caster could say little to dissuade him.

“Very well. What do you want to know?”

“You wanna act dumb? Fine. You were there during the Third Holy Grail War. So tell me...” Assassin spoke, leaning in closer to Other Caster’s ear.

“...who is Angra Mainyu?”


	16. Return to the Fray

Rider leapt from one end of the meadow to the other, spraying dirt as he slid to a stop. He looked down at his hands, examining them for a moment. The bones that had made up his body were now pitch black. The blue smoke that arose from his Spiritual Core in his head seemed to be taking well to the new body that his Master and Caster had made for him.

“I understand your need to test your limits before we start today, but I’d appreciate it if you didn’t make a mess of this place,” Caster criticized from her resting place. She lounged atop of a tree branch not far away, examining a fruit she had plucked out of the tree.

Caster’s Reality Marble took the form of a beautiful garden, with the sun shining down hotly, yet plenty of shade to hide in. It could be called a paradise. Except to Rider, who was annoyed by the lack of a lake. The only water was a few small streams nearby.

Rider responded to her request by dashing over to the tree she was in and punching it with all his might, causing it to explode into wooden splinters. The tree’s bottom flipped out from under it and it fell down next to Rider.

Caster came floating down, gently as a fallen leaf. She sighed. “Such stubborn intensity. It’s such a shame you’re missing the one bone that counts.”

“As if I’d be interested in a wench like ye?”

“If you two have time to bicker, you have time to prepare for the battle ahead. I assume you remember the plan?” Other Caster called to them from the other side of the meadow, walking slowly towards them.

“Aye.”

“Of course.”

“Good. Then we’ll have nothing to fear when they come.”

A ball of light suddenly appeared next to Caster. Caster turned to it and leaned towards it slightly. A strange humming, almost like a broken harmonica, came floating out of the orb.

“You summoned one?” Other Caster asked, clearly agitated.

Caster gave a slight shrug. “I couldn’t be bothered. It did the job just fine.”

Other Caster grumbled something under his breath. “And the result?”

“They’re coming. They’ll be here soon.”

“I would have an easier time believing that if you actually took the time to do as I asked,” Other Caster responded, folding his hands behind his back.

Caster gave a flighty laugh. Her voice, however, betrayed her true feelings. “You don’t get to order me around. You know that.”

Other Caster and Caster merely stared at one another for a few moments. Other Caster grunted and turned on his heel, walking away. Rider waited for the Other Caster to leave the Reality Marble before turning to Caster.

“We ought ta kill ‘im.”

Caster didn’t respond at first. “We will. As soon as he hands over all that Mana he’s been sitting on. His Noble Phantasm is capable of stealing Mana from defeated enemies, even ones he himself didn’t kill. He has a lot from the previous war. Once he gives it to me so I can fully summon my Noble Phantasm, you’re free to destroy him. At that point, we’ll have enough mana from the slaughter of all the people in this town that we won’t need him anyway.”

“And what of the Mana ye got from me undead horde in tha Locker?” Rider asked.

“Well… if worst comes to worst, I’ll use that to summon my Noble Phantasm but… I’d prefer to have enough to make sure I summon  _ him _ at the same time.”

Rider gave a throaty chuckle. “Yer a bilgy strumpet. I agree. ‘Tis a shame after all.”

* * *

Sakura had no idea that she would be standing on the same building, looking at the same tower twice in this war. It was wetter and colder this time, and far darker. The setting sun was blotted out by black clouds, casting the usual shade of red the town had on at this time into a deep dark blue.

To her immediate right stood Lancer, standing in the same pose as last time, observing the tower through the rain. Behind her and to the left stood Archer and Berserker. A glance over her shoulder told her that they were ready to move when she was.

Behind her and to the right, a bit farther back than where Archer and Berserker were, was Chiaki and Remia. They were talking about something. Remia had his gun drawn and he was demonstrating some kind of hand motion to her. It was a strange, almost snapping movement with his finger after he mock fired the gun.

He was teaching her Detonation. Sakura might’ve been worried that Remia was trying to teach her this so late in the war, but ultimately she just appreciated that Chiaki was preparing herself further for the battle ahead - even if it was impossible for her to use it so soon after learning. Any advantage they could get, she’d take.

Of the three Masters, Chiaki had the least combat capability, which made her the weakest link. But Berserker was insistent that she come for whatever reason. The bond those two shared was odd… and yet somewhat familiar.

Truthfully, Sakura didn’t mind. Or couldn’t mind, more accurately. She had other things to worry about. In her hands, she clutched a long case. She had stored  _ it _ in there as a precaution. It had been some time since she had used it… but if this was a trap, then she needed to be ready to fight with everything she had.

Even an old friend’s final parting gift.

“Liselotte Tower has been closed down for repairs,” Lancer narrated his findings, “but there are no workers there now.”

Sakura mused how Lancer and Caster’s fight was actually advantageous to them entering the building now. Sakura had felt that a direct approach would’ve been what Caster and her Master expected of them, being overconfident in their power. A sneakier approach, perhaps one that allowed them to subtly penetrate the bounded field surrounding the penthouse, would give them an advantage they didn’t have last time. Of course, Caster and her Master may have been prepared for this as well, but Sakura felt that whether they knew or not, it was still a safer way of approach.

Sakura couldn’t discount Caster’s Master. She had seen him in the previous war. His power was nothing special. He was the weakest Servant in that war, but his ability to gather Mana was unprecedented. That fact alone made him so much more dangerous as a Master than he ever was as a Servant.

Yet Sakura kept this fact from the others. She didn’t want them to become unnerved by him. They were going against two servants, Caster and Rider. Possibly three if Assassin took advantage of the chaos to attack. Adding a fourth would not only mean they were outnumbered, it would put everyone on edge as to what he could do. Sakura had a plan to deal with him before his identity ever came to light.

_ You’ll make sure to prioritize Caster’s Master the moment he appears? _ Sakura telepathically asked Lancer. He gave a slight nod in response.

_ Then, unless you have any further observations to make, let's get started. _

Sakura turned to face her allies, setting down her case for a moment. “Remember, Caster and Rider are likely working together, but that doesn’t mean Assassin won’t attempt an attack. Keep on your guard, protect your Master at all costs. Masters, stick to your Servants. Help where you can, but don’t get in the way. If they’re facing off against another Servant, you should stay back. However, as everyone except Lancer and I are already aware of, Rider is capable of raising the dead. Dealing with these zombies is largely what we’ll be doing,” Sakura explained.

Remia stepped forward, folding his arms. He nodded at the case she was holding. “That what I think it is?”

Sakura glanced at it. “Depends on what you think it is.”

Remia smirked, giving a quick turn to the other members of their team. “Y’all ‘re about to see one of the last real Maguses around kick ass like no one else can.”

Sakura closed her eyes and bristled. She really wished he wouldn’t hype her up like that. The little demonstration that she had showed Remia when they first met was probably leagues above anything she could do now, due to how much Mana had disappeared from the world since then.

Sakura turned her attention back to the tower. “Lancer and I will proceed first. Archer, keep us covered. Once we give the signal, Berserker shall follow us, then Archer,” Sakura spoke. With no further explanation, Lancer wrapped his arm around her as he had done last time and kicked off the side of the building.

Unfortunately, because of how dark it was, Sakura found herself much more terrified as they whizzed through the black and rainy unknown. Lancer landed lightly in front of the doors, closed off by construction barricades. He let go of Sakura and walked towards them. He drew a rune on the door, and the lock clicked open a moment later. He turned, motioning for Sakura to come inside, which she was more than glad to do just to get out of the rain.

Lancer summoned his spear and drew a rune at the edge of it, generating a bright light to illuminate the room they were in.

The lobby of the tower greeted them. A place usually so bright and welcoming now felt very hostile, as the only light in the room struggled to hold back the darkness that encroached at the corners of the area.

Sakura turned to Lancer, who was turned to face towards the roof. “Anything?”

“Not that I can see. The runes can only do so much. If they’re hiding, they’re likely to still be in the penthouse. Whether or not they know we’re here is yet unknown.”

Berserker suddenly came through the door with Chiaki.

Lancer turned towards them, clearly irritated. Sakura held up a hand, stopping him before he could start. “You were supposed to wait for a signal.”

“That light wasn’t the signal?” Chiaki asked.

Sakura sighed and shook her head. There was no hiding it now. Lancer could replicate the effects of Presence Concealment with his runes in order to get the drop on someone, but there was no way for Berserker to hide his presence. Regrettably, that meant the element of surprise was definitely lost to them now, if it hadn’t been already.

_ No matter. At least we’ll know that they’ll expect us _ , Sakura decided in her head.

Archer and Remia stepped through a shimmer in the air, Archer missing his cloak. A moment later, he called it to his hand and wrapped it around himself once more.

That Noble Phantasm of Archer’s was very useful for infiltration. It was a shame they couldn’t have used it more effectively here.

The wind outside started to slam into the side of the tower, making the foundations rumble and the doors clatter.

“Are we ready to ascend?” Lancer asked after the rumbling quieted.

“Hold up…” Remia spoke, looking towards the end of the lobby. Behind the desk, a man was exiting a back room. His hard hat and vest revealed his occupation as a construction worker.

“I thought you said the place was empty,” Remia whispered harshly to Lancer as he moved closer. Lancer held out his spear horizontally, blocking Remia’s path.

“It was… he just showed up out of nowhere.”

Sakura realized only too late. The Master of Caster had done the same thing before.

Chiaki suddenly shrieked. When Sakura whirled around to see why, she saw Berserker standing in front of Chiaki, both of them looking at the doors as if something was there… and Sakura soon saw that there  _ was _ something there. Water.

Dark water flowing at the edge of the door, as if they had somehow been submerged. It ebbed away and then crashed into the doors once more, making them clatter. Water had spewed through the cracks, spraying Chiaki with the water.

“Rider,” Lancer growled.

The man in the hard hat stepped forward, revealing his watery, zombified state. Soon, more zombies appeared out of thin air, stepping from the shadows as if they had always been there. Rider and Caster were indeed working together… and it appeared Caster had used her Noble Phantasm to lure them into an ambush by Rider’s zombies.

Another crash of water shook the tower.

_ And he’s cut off our escape in all directions but one… _ Sakura thought to herself, looking upwards.

“We don’t have a choice right now,” Lancer spoke, as if he had read her mind. “Once that water breaks in, it’ll drown us. Whether we move up now or later is trivial.”

Sakura gritted her teeth. She wanted more time to think it over… but it was time they didn’t have. “Up! Everyone move to the upper floor! Lancer, clear a path!”

Lancer vanished, and a hole in the roof of the lobby suddenly ripped open. Sakura felt herself being picked up by a massive arm she assumed was Berserker’s, and she was taken through that hole in the roof. The floor above was darkened as well, but she could see that it had been closed off for repairs, and several walls were missing. Looking back, it was a miracle that the tower didn’t collapse because of Lancer and Caster’s battle.

The tower shook once more, and the sound of rushing water came drifting through the hole they had just come through.

Lancer lit another orb of light, only to reveal that the entire crew of construction workers were still around them… or perhaps they had been up here the entire time. They had a choice to make.

“Can anyone detain them without killing them?” Remia shouted out, placing a hand on his gun.

“...give me a moment,” Archer replied. He dashed forward and grabbed onto one of the lumbering figures and pushed him back. They disappeared, and the space around where they once were shimmered.

It shimmered almost immediately again, and Archer reappeared alone. His eyes were bright, clearly impassioned. “I can. Defend yourselves… I will clear them out,” Archer stated resolutely. He became a blur, dashing around and picking off the zombies, one by one or two by two and vanishing into the Spirit World with them.

Sakura was relieved. It meant one less problem they’d have to deal with.

Unfortunately, her relief didn’t last long.

She saw what happened next, despite the speed at which it happened. Archer was moving towards one of the zombified crewmen, arms outstretched in order to grab him… but then the corpse exploded.

It was an odd sight, but it looked as though the skeleton suddenly ripped its way out of the zombie’s skin and moved forward at a frightening pace, throwing a strike into Archer’s chest.

Rider, now sporting an all-black skeleton body, had just thrust his hand through Archer’s body, spurting blood all over the dilapidated boards that surrounded them.

“Archer!” Chiaki cried.

Archer spat up blood immediately, spraying over Rider’s face. Rider didn’t seem to care. He lifted Archer off his feet with his arm still stuck in Archer.

“Ye stopped me from killin’ tha girl back on tha beach. So I’ll be takin’ yer life instead ‘a her’s,” Rider growled.

Lancer was suddenly beside Rider, his tattoos fully alight. In a single swipe, the arm that was stuck through Archer was cut off. A swift kick to Rider sent him flying back through the wall of the tower, busting open a way to the rainy outside. Lancer became a blue streak, following him out.

Remia was the first at Archer’s side, helping him stand. Sakura moved closer to get a better look at the wound, as did Chiaki.

“God damn it…” Remia swore. It wasn’t good. The wound was near his Spiritual Core, that much was obvious… but it didn’t pierce it directly, thankfully.

“You have to... keep going…” Archer growled, placing a hand on Rider’s disembodied arm and pulling it out of him. More blood flowed from his wound. Archer summoned his cloak and wrapped it around himself.

“Now hold on just a damn minute, you ain’t in any condition to continue,” Remia protested.

“I can’t use Bloody Cloak and the Red-Tailed Hawk Prophecy at the same time… I have no way of detaining the zombies without killing them…” Archer groaned in pain, steadying himself away from Remia. “You have to move on… or they will overtake you.”

“And what about you?” Chiaki asked.

“I will be okay…” Archer replied. He turned to look at Berserker, and he began to change into Spirit Form, presumably to preserve Mana. “Caster… must be stopped…”

Berserker had a stern look. After a moment’s hesitation, he nodded. “You heard the man. We best get going.”

Sakura paused for a moment.

_ Lancer, I take it that you can deal with Rider? _ Sakura asked him telepathically.

_ Easily _ , was his response.

Sakura turned to Berserker. “Alright. Without Lancer and Archer, getting to the top will take some time, but it’s still doable. If you can clear a path to the top first, then come back down for-”

There was a shockwave. No… not a shockwave… but it felt like it. It rippled through Sakura’s body as if an explosion had gone off beside her. But she remained still. The looks on Chiaki and Remia’s faces told her that they had felt the same thing. And they all felt it come from the top of the tower.

“Caster…” Berserker glowered.

She was activating her Noble Phantasm. There wasn’t time anymore. As far as she knew, Caster didn’t have a target for her Noble Phantasm… which meant that she didn’t need one. And anything that required  _ that _ much Mana to activate certainly wasn’t good.

“Berserker, you need to get goin’. We’ll catch up,” Remia spoke. Berserker hesitated for a few moments. He looked at Chiaki.

“It’s… alright. I’ll be okay,” she said.

Berserker arched an eyebrow. “So does that mean you  _ didn’t _ want to fight by my side?”

Chiaki looked stunned. “Me? How would I be of help?”

Berserker shrugged. “You’ll find a way. You always do. Besides, I’m tired of someone else doing my job for me. So… one more time: do you want to fight by my side?”

Chiaki blinked. She cleared her throat and looked at her feet for a few seconds. When she looked back at Berserker, she had a large smile on her face she was desperately trying to keep under control. “Hell yeah, I do.”

Berserker picked her up and angled himself so that his back was facing the roof. “Brace yourself. This is gonna be a bumpy ride.”

He pushed off the ground and went crashing through the floors of the hotel, one after another. Sakura and Remia simply looked at the first hole they made in the roof.

“Man, those two…” Remia whistled.

“We should get going ourselves,” Sakura spoke, back on topic. She wanted to avoid this situation at all costs but… it was now up to her and Remia to kill Caster’s Master. 

Remia nodded, drawing his gun. “Let’s go hunt us a Master, shall we?”

* * *

Berserker exploded through the floor. He landed and let go of Chiaki, letting her straighten herself out. The rain and the wind was immense. He hoped Chiaki would be okay.

They were in a mostly destroyed penthouse. As he recalled, Lancer and Caster had had a battle here some time ago…

Caster herself was waiting patiently, cross legged, on a half destroyed sofa. Her staff was floating behind her, and her claws and horns were on full display. She had a magical shield formed above her that kept the rain off her.

“Why hello there, Berserker. I’m very surprised to see you. I thought Lancer would be the one to make it up here… no offense.”

Berserker didn’t respond at first.

“Why are you doing this?” he eventually asked.

Caster tilted her head. “I’m sorry? What exactly are you referring to? Attacking you and your friends?”

“Letting Rider do as he pleases. Do you understand what you did to those he had under his control? Do you not feel any remorse for tearing their souls out?” Berserker interrogated, taking a few steps forward.

Caster gave a soft chuckle. “Oh, you sweet thing… heroes never seem to understand why anyone would turn their back on the code of morals this world so desperately clings to.”

Berserker scowled and got into a fighting position. If she wasn’t going to answer him…

“Easy there, big boy. Don’t be too excited to get to the main course. I’ll talk to you all night, if you’d like…”

Caster turned her head towards the sky. There was a vortex in the sky, causing the clouds to spiral into chaos. The source of the storm.

“Of course, you’d have to be willing to let me pull  _ this _ little thing off in order to hear my full answer. It’s not terribly convenient, I know, but if you’re  _ really _ that curious-”

“Fine then. Skip the answer. I’ll take your name instead,” Berserker replied.

He had a plan. He already had an idea of who Caster was… but he wanted to confirm it first.

Caster took a moment to respond. She looked at him. “Well, you’re no fun… maybe we can turn this into a game? Defeat me before I’ve completed the summoning-”

“ _ No! _ ” Berserker roared. “Do as I say, or I’ll kill you.”

The green orb surrounding Caster exploded outwards. Berserker quickly shielded Chiaki from the blast, but found the wave of energy wasn’t meant for offense. He barely took damage.

“Now… those are words I’ve heard too many times. ‘Caster, do this and we’ll win the war’, ‘Caster, stop going out and killing random men’, ‘Caster, do as I say’, ‘Caster, stop having fun’.”

A green lightning bolt came down and struck her, showering the area with sparks of a similar color.

“ _ I am sick and tired of being told what I can or cannot do! _ ” she screamed.

Berserker stood ready, in case she attacked out of nowhere. She was unstable now. It could happen at any time.

Berserker just had to guess at this point, and hope he was correct.

“Lilith… I see. Master, do you recognize the name?” Berserker called out beside him.

Chiaki glanced at him. She had been looking on the scene the entire time, completely silent. “Lilith… everyone’s at least heard the name. I’ve never been terribly familiar with the legend, but as I understand it, she’s a demon of seduction.”

“Most demons started out human,” Berserker replied, turning his attention back to Caster. “That right?”

Caster’s face, covered by the mask, didn’t betray any emotion.

“You’re quite clever. You almost remind me of  _ him _ …”

“I’ve heard that phrase a lot in this war, always in different contexts. It’s starting to creep me out.”

Lilith actually laughed. It wasn’t a flirtatious giggle or a condescending snicker, it was a  _ laugh _ .

“Oh, he was funny, too… not like Adam. Adam was so droll and boring. He worked hard, but was so damn adherent to the rules. He wanted me to be, too… so I ran away and met my  _ true love _ ,” Lilith reminisced, flying higher into the air and spreading her arms wide.

The vortex spiraled faster and faster. The ritual was near completion. Berserker doubted he could stop it at this point…

_ Berserker… you remember what I asked? _ Chiaki asked him telepathically.

Berserker stopped. That’s right.

“I will,” he spoke aloud.

_ You better do it now. If she pulls off that Noble Phantasm, who knows how many people are going to die? _

Berserker clenched his fists. Just a little longer…

“Caster!” Berserker called out. “You’re strong enough to not have to rely on the Noble Phantasm, aren’t you?”

Caster stopped her ascent for a moment. She looked down at him. “Berserker… trying to manipulate me? Control me? You’re much smarter than you look.”

_ No use… I’ll have to kill another one, _ Berserker thought to himself.

He launched into the air and flipped, bringing his heel at Caster in a kick. Caster disappeared in a green flash of light and his kick hit air. A flash of green reflected off the downpour of rain, alerting Berserker to the fact that Caster had appeared behind him.

He spun in the air, turning his momentum into a strike at Caster. Caster dodged back, towards the ground.

Chiaki took off, igniting her hands into the Lightning Cestus. She jumped at Caster with her hand outstretched.

Caster stepped off to the side and spun, grabbing onto Chiaki’s wrist. “How pathetically slow,” Caster chided. Chiaki took a step out and planted her foot. She pivoted and brought her other hand around into a hook.

Caster easily swerved around it, but Chiaki hadn’t been aiming for her body. Chiaki’s hand instead slammed into Caster’s arm, the one holding on to Chiaki. The lightning flowed through Caster for a moment, shocking her enough to force her to let go of Chiaki.

And distracting her enough for Berserker to close the distance. He twisted his body and clamped his hands together, slamming his elbow into Caster’s face. The force from the blow knocked Chiaki off her feet backwards, but she was able to roll like Berserker had taught her to disperse the impact.

Caster went flying back, and her mask shattered into fragments. She went tumbling end over end until eventually she skidded to a stop.

She laid there, disheveled, for a moment or two.

She struggled to her knees. Her hair was a mess, her dress had been torn and ruined, and blood was now trickling out of her mouth. However, the moment she realized her mask was missing, her clawed hand went to her face.

“N… no. You broke my…” Caster whimpered.

Berserker held for a moment. He knew he should keep the pressure… but there was that twinge of pity he felt for her. He had seen people like her before. At first, he threw them off to the side, defeating them or killing them in the name of justice…

_ Will you be willing to kill Caster? _ She had asked.

_ Of course, _ he had responded quickly.

He should have known better. But Chiaki knew. Berserker was a fool for not understanding the real question she was asking.

He wasn’t willing. Not until he had done everything in his power to try and save her first. But now he knew… he couldn’t take that chance. If she lived any longer, it would put Chiaki into more danger. There was a chance he could save Caster… but was that a risk he was willing to take? More accurately, would he be willing to risk Chiaki in order to gain the opportunity to  _ potentially _ save Caster?

“I’ll kill…” Caster suddenly spoke. She was now standing, but slumped over, her hand still on her face, trying to hide it.

“... _ everyone _ ...” Caster wailed.

The clouds in the center of the vortex above them suddenly parted, and a bright light shone out. Berserker didn’t take the time to look. He bolted forward, keeping his arms in. It was time to finish this.

Bat-like wings sprouted out of Caster’s back, and she took into the air at a frightening pace. Berserker jumped to intercept, but she aimed a blast of green energy that slammed him back into the roof, causing the already weakened building to crumble beneath his landing spot and plunging him into the floor below.

He sprang to his feet and leaped back out the hole back to the penthouse. Caster was now turned away from him, slowly floating away. She was still near enough to the ground that Berserker could reach her… but she seemed to be fading away into a shadow that hadn’t existed previously. If he had to guess, she was escaping into the Reality Marble that Tohsaka had encountered when they were here last time. Berserker dashed forward.

But so had Chiaki. Chiaki she had moved at the exact same moment Berserker had, but in the time it had taken him to get knocked down and get up again, she had closed the distance between her and an unsuspecting Caster. She jumped and grabbed on to Caster with her hands sparking with lightning.

“Chiaki!” Berserker called.

They disappeared an instant before he could close the distance. Berserker stopped in his tracks, simply staring at where they once were.

Chiaki was now alone with Caster in a Reality Marble that he had no way to penetrate. He had to get Lancer or Archer… one of them might know how to-

His thoughts were interrupted by a strange humming. He hadn’t noticed it at first, but it had been slowly building for quite a while now. It was a dissonant cacophony of strange whistles and buzzes. It was like an orchestra made entirely of broken pan flutes.

He turned and looked skyward. It looked like he was right. He wouldn’t have stopped her ritual even if he did kill her.

Which meant it wasn’t a ritual at all, he guessed. It was a signal to attack.

Above him, flying en masse from the end of the vortex, were many balls of lights, vibrating and whirring, flying around erratically, down to the city below.

Caster’s Noble Phantasm was here.

* * *

Rada always loved one thing above all else. Power. All power

Physical, political, social. It didn’t matter to her. Power was power, and it excited her. She had done her best to become powerful and to surround herself with powerful people. She had dated several bodybuilders, martial artists, and other sports stars. Each replacement more impressive than the last.

So it surprised her the moment that her steroid-infused-all-star boyfriend was nearly murdered by the Stranger.

She followed the Stranger after their little altercation that left her beau a bloody mess in an alleyway somewhere. At first, she was curious to see just how he had accomplished such a feat. He was able to detect her following him easily. Then she realized that he was different.

His strength was unparalleled, that was revealed the moment he defeated her ex. His mind was potent, as shown by his ability to see through her following him so quickly.

But the clearest sign of his uniqueness was his voice. It radiated pure, unadulterated, overwhelming  _ power _ .

She had to have him. She revealed to him her riches. Told him of her standing in the public eye. Inserted the fact that she had ties to both the presidency and the criminal underworld (subtly and with plausible deniability, of course. She didn’t know if he was recording something). And she told him that she would be willing to share it with him so long as he joined her at her lovenest this evening.

He seemed disinterested, but agreed, much to her surprise. She was worried he was going to be one of those “too strong for worldly desires” types.

It wasn’t hard to seduce him. He barely reacted to anything she did, but all she needed was to hear his voice in order to be pleased. It was intoxicating. It was like she was doing something so horribly dangerous by keeping this man’s company, yet she couldn’t possibly begin to understand why.

It hadn’t even crossed her mind to ask his name. She regretted that after he decided to leave.

His departure was so sudden. He stood up in the middle of their lovemaking and brushed her off himself. Like a man possessed, he walked toward the large window that looked over the city.

“What the hell? What are you doing?” she asked, desperate to hear his voice again.

“For too long have I quested, ignoring my duties. It is time for my return.”

She didn’t really register what he had said… she just felt the waves of strength radiating from his voice.

A bright flash of light snapped her out of her fervor. The Stranger was now standing in a full set of silver armor. He splayed his hand forward, and the window shattered, letting in the cold and wind.

Only now did she begin to understand why she was so attracted to him. Why he was so different. Why she felt so endangered and excited by him.

He wasn’t even human.

Another flash of light came, but formed into a pair of angelic wings on his back that glowed with energy. He walked to the edge, and the woman could only stare as he jumped, bursting over the horizon and out of sight within seconds, leaving a trail of quickly dissipating light as a marker of the path he took.

Rada was never satisfied after that. She wanted so desperately to meet that being just once more in her life, and searched for him endlessly... but she never saw him again.


	17. Pandemonium

The moment Lancer had seen Rider pierce Archer with his arm, Lancer felt a shock. It wasn’t a feeling he was used to. He had been enraged before… but not like this. Not even Berserker had motivated him to kill someone the way Rider just had.

His body moved on its own. He activated his full-body Rune and took off, slicing through Rider’s arm, and separating him and Archer. A kick sent Rider out of the tower. Lancer followed quickly.

The scene outside wasn’t good. Besides the raging storm that was now in full swing, water was now flooding the streets. Dark water. If anyone was outside at this time, they’d be swept under the current. It was maybe a meter high at the moment, but Lancer would bet that it was rising higher.

Lancer landed on a car hood across the street from the tower. Rider was out here somewhere… likely hiding beneath the waves. He could find him.

He reached out and drew a rune in the air. It glowed yellow for a moment before encapsulating itself in magical energy and flying into the dark water, it’s light instantly being diminished once it passed the surface.

Lancer waited. The rune would alert him when it had encountered Rider.

_ Lancer, I take it that you can deal with Rider? _ Sakura asked him telepathically.

_ Easily _ , was his response.

R ider suddenly rose from the dark water, farther down the street. The rune must've had no effect… perhaps his Magic Resistance was higher than he had thought.

R ider stood on top of the water, dressed in fully golden armor that had glowing sigils on it.

Lancer squinted. If Rider was indeed Davy Jones… then he must’ve been able to retrieve anything that sank throughout history, and any treasure it had on board. It would explain the sudden appearance of a ship back on the beach, and why that ship wasn’t his Noble Phantasm.

R ider reached down and grabbed onto something beneath the water. With a mighty heave, he pulled a massive gilded anchor, adorned with gems and what looked to be a golden chain.

" Gold makes for poor armor,” Lancer criticized.

" Shut up. I ain’t killed a single hero in this war yet. I want ta see if they die the same way humans do,” Rider snarled.

Lancer chuckled and placed a hand on his hip. “Does not proving yourself in battle irritate you? Or are you simply not satisfied with the blood of innocents you’ve spilled already?”

“Satisfied? Do ye know who yer even talkin’ to? I’m Davy bloody fuckin’ Jones! I’m one ‘a tha devils humans fear most! And ye’ll be no exception once  _ I’m _ through with ye!” Rider spat out.

Lancer threw his head back and laughed. When he brought his head down again, his eyes were closed. “You’re spirited. But you best watch what you say...” Lancer spoke.

He opened his eyes and dropped his smile. “...to the friend of a man you've tried to murder.”

Rider cackled and hoisted the anchor over his shoulder, sending a shockwave through the waves he was standing on. “Come on then!”

Lancer shot forward, dashing to the wall of the building next to him and running along it so that he was behind Rider before jumping at him, readying a strike.

R ider surprised Lancer with his speed by spinning to meet him, throwing his entire weight into a counter strike with his anchor. The two strikes met, and Lancer was thrown to the side. He regained his composure and landed on a windowsill of the tower.

I t was curious… Lancer should’ve been too fast for Rider to be able to respond with a strike like that, but it appeared that the armor he was wearing, obviously magical in nature, was strengthening him further. It wouldn’t be much of a problem, now that he knew it existed.

Rider suddenly threw the anchor at Lancer. It was slow, so Lancer easily dodged along to another windowsill further along on the tower, with the anchor slamming into the spot where Lancer once was and breaking through the window. Rider then grabbed the chain of the anchor and pulled, roaring as he caused the anchor to blast its way along the side of the tower towards Lancer, demolishing any concrete or brick in its way as it did so.

Lancer saw that coming as well and kicked off the side of the wall, flipping in the air as he landed on the roof of the building opposite of the tower.

Rider pulled his anchor back to himself, catching it and turning to face Lancer. He began to twirl the anchor by the chain, it creating a heavy whooshing noise as it spun faster and faster by Rider’s rotations.

Rider was left open when he attacked with that thing. It was an obvious weak point.

Lancer readied himself. He moved off to the side and jumped back into the air above the street, making himself an easy target for Rider, but also putting some space between them.

Rider bounded forward, closing this space almost just as quickly as it had been made. He grunted, and let the anchor fly, this time going much faster thanks to Rider’s rotational momentum.

Lancer quickly drew a rune in the air and then kicked off it as if it were a flat surface. He spun around the anchor in mid-air and bolted for Rider himself, dropping down to the dark water and skidding along its surface as he came in for the killing blow.

Rider suddenly pulled his arm in front of Lancer’s strike, meeting it. The sigil on his gauntlet glowed for a moment before sending a pulse of energy out which ripped Lancer backwards, causing him to crash through the wall of a building.

Lancer picked himself up and saw that he was now residing on the floor of a restaurant, one which now had a large hole in the wall, allowing dark water to gush in. Lancer got to his feet in a flash and jumped on one of the remaining tables.

He glowered. If this went on much longer, there would be massive amounts of collateral damage. He didn’t like it, but… he’d have to swallow his pride. He had been playing with fire this entire time… with his tattoos active and him having to dance around this water that sapped his magical energy… it was like he was giving Rider every opportunity to fight him on an equal level.

And Lancer was perfectly aware of all that. He just wanted to see the best Rider had to offer and show him how little it meant. Lancer got into his fighting pose. It was time to get serious.

He launched off the table to a car outside, then off the car to the sky. He threw his spear with all his might directly at the ground below him. It crashed into the dark water and then the street, the sheer force of doing so causing a concussive blast that forced all the water in the area to recede back up the street.

Rider, who had been standing on the water the whole time, found his feet swept out from under him. Lancer didn’t waste the opportunity. Rider may have gotten faster due to the armor… but he was still no match for Lancer’s speed.

In a flash, Lancer was behind Rider, drawing a rune on the back of Rider’s chestplate. He dashed around, drawing another rune on his gauntlet, then his helm, then his greaves. All this before Rider had touched the ground.

Lancer backed off and let Rider regain his footing. 

“Davy Jones… you said you wanted to see if heroes died the same way ordinary humans do. Allow me to teach you an important lesson.”

Rider instantly threw out his anchor, directly at Lancer’s head. Lancer calmly reached out an open palm and caught the anchor with no issue.

“Know the difference between a hero and a god.”

Lancer twisted the anchor, crushing it in his palm before he darted to directly in front of Rider. In less than a second, he drew the final rune on Rider. 

All the runes he had drawn around Rider all glowed red before shattering, breaking the armor off Rider immediately. Lancer reached out his hand, and his spear returned to him as fast as it had left him. He twirled his spear three times, striking Rider with each pass. He threw a punch into Rider’s sternum, making his skeletal body blow apart, revealing the Spiritual Core beneath. 

Lancer flipped his spear and hooked the core onto the end of it. He forced Mana into his spear. Berserker had failed to ensure Rider’s death last time. He would rectify that.

Lancer pulled his arm back, aiming the spear high up into the air. His spear inflamed with a light blue aura. “ _ Gun- _ ”

Rider’s Spiritual Core vanished in a flash of red light, interrupting Lancer. Lancer halted his attack at once. He deactivated his Runic Body, and leapt to the side of a building before the water came rushing back on him. 

Lancer had seen that light before. It was the same red light that Berserker had when he was powered up by Chiaki’s Command Seal. That must’ve meant that Rider’s Master had used a Command Seal to teleport him away in this crisis.

It was odd… even though Rider had managed to escape… he felt… good.

He remembered often counseling younger ones as the Elder God Odin about vengeance. It rarely ever played out how one expected it to. And yet in this case, he was happy that he was able to defeat Rider so soundly, even if he wasn’t able to finish him off.

Lancer looked down at his off-hand.

_ No… this wasn’t done for vengeance. This feeling I have now is… pride. In my ability as a warrior. I had forgotten as an old man… how to enjoy a fight. _

Lancer closed his eyes. This wasn’t good. Now… he could feel it welling up inside him now… the desire. He wanted to defeat Berserker at his full power. It was the same desire that had begun building inside him after he had fought Berserker on the first day of the war.

Lancer shook his head. There would be time for that later, once Caster and Assassin were dealt with. He had likely taken more time to ponder on these things than he had taken to defeat Rider. It was unbecoming of a sage, even one as hot-blooded as he, to forget his objective before completing it.

He turned and looked up at the tower. There was a bright light. Something was happening. Whatever it was, it wasn’t good.

Lancer bounded off, climbing his way towards the top of the tower.

* * *

Remia followed Tohsaka out the door of the stairwell. He whirled around and slammed it shut, finding a stray board and propping it against it. He placed a hand on the board and closed his eyes. He strengthened the components with Reinforcement. He leaned against the wall next to it to catch his breath.

Despite his efforts, he knew it wouldn’t hold them for long. He didn’t realize that running from an entire army of zombies  _ and _ looking for an enemy Master at the same time would be so difficult. It was made even more difficult considering he wasn’t willing to kill these people…

Of course, maybe they were already dead. Maybe Rider hadn’t just infected them with his dark water, but had actually murdered them with it. But Caster was still able to extract their souls for mana… that meant there had to be a way to undo what Rider had done. Even if there wasn’t… even if Remia was a fool for trying… the fact that the possibility they could be saved meant that he had to try.

“Damn… whatever place he had been hiding in before is at the top of the tower,” Tohsaka growled, withdrawing her vision from Imaginary Number Space. “If he’s there, we still have a lot of climbing to do. The familiars are searching the rest of the building as fast as they can, but they can only move so quickly.”

Remia shook his head. “So we ain’t gained any ground after all that runnin’?” Remia panted. Inwardly, he was a little irritated that Tohsaka wasn't as tired as he was, especially since she had been carrying that case with her the entire time.

“We’ve covered  _ some _ ground… just not very much. We have to find out where we’re going first in order to figure out how far we’ve made it.”

“I swear, Ms. Tohsaka, if we get to the top of this place and he ends up being at the bottom somewhere, I might have to kill someone,” Remia shook his head, taking off his hat and wiping his brow.

" If you were looking for me...” a voice called out at the end of the room.

I n an instant, Remia’s hand was on his pistol and pointed at the Master of Caster as he entered their view.

“...you could have said so. I am gracious in accepting visitors.”

"Well, glad you're so gracious, considerin' we're here to murder you," Remia replied. Then he realized it. This man was different.

"What in the goddamn…?"

The Master of Caster raised an eyebrow. "Did you not properly brief your associate on my status as a Servant? For shame, Ms. Tohsaka."

Remia glanced Tohsaka's way before returning his attention to the enemy. She was currently knelt down, opening the case she had brought with her.

The fact that she hadn’t told him this meant one of two things… either she didn’t think he’d find out, which meant she wanted to face him head-on… or she herself didn’t know. The former was far more likely. She said she had seen him when they invaded his tower way back when, and Remia didn’t take Tohsaka as the unobservant type.

" I thought you said he was a Master of a previous war…” Remia murmured over to her.

" He was,” Tohsaka replied as she unlocked the case successfully and opened. “He was a Master in the Third War. Then he got summoned into the Fourth as a Servant.”

“A former Master  _ and _ a Servant? Who the hell would be famous enough from the Third War to…”

It hit him suddenly. Staring at the Other Caster’s face this entire time, he hadn’t realized just how different he’d look if he weren’t bald and clean shaven.

" Oh, you have gotta be shitting me six ways from Sunday.”

" Frankly, I wasn’t sure you’d believe me if I had told you our opponent was Adolf Hitler,” Tohsaka explained, pulling something out of the case.

Remia glanced at her and then back at the man in front of them. “Well, all things considered? Getting to punch Hitler in the face is never a bad thing to put on a resume.”

Hitler gave a slight shrug. “I suppose so. It is such a shame that I have such a bad reputation in this era… it has made my attempts at gaining power significantly more difficult. However, there are more than a few people willing to see my side of things, so long as I refrain from sharing my True Name,” Hitler pontificated, seemingly disinterested with the two before him.

Remia cleared his throat. Hitler was one thing. But this was Hitler as a Servant. “Okay, now that we’re well acquainted with one another… exactly what are we goin’ up against?” Remia asked Tohsaka, still busy preparing herself.

“He has a very low level of Witchcraft he can use, essentially only a few lower level curses and wards of protection. It looks like he utilizes his Caster-class Item Creation skill to materialize weapons. Other than that, he has the general immunities to modern weaponry that most Servants have.”

“Well, he may be immune to the bullet, but he sure as hell ain’t gonna be immune to the Detonation,” Remia growled, aiming down his sights.

“I had planned on fighting him alone, but since you’re here… focus on making him sit still. I’ll take care of the rest,” Tohsaka replied, standing up.

Remia glanced at her again. She had undone her ponytail, letting her long dark hair loose. Around her left arm was a black garment with red stripes, and a single red ribbon hanging off it. Clutched tightly in her hand was a matte black straight bow. It looked to be made of some strange material Remia had not seen before…

She reached into a satchel she had slung onto her side and pulled out a gem, holding it in the palm of her hand. She calmly clutched the string of the bow and pulled, the gem suddenly morphing and becoming a crystalline arrow.

“Remia,” Tohsaka stated.

Remia didn’t realize he had been staring. He quickly turned his gaze back to Hitler. He couldn't help it… she had shown off her abilities like this before, when they had first met back at the Mage’s Association. It terrified him just as much now as it did back then.

Unfortunately, Hitler had taken Remia’s distractedness as an opportunity. He formed a grenade in his hand and threw it at them before vanishing into the darkness of the room.

Remia aimed and fired, blasting the grenade apart before it reached them. The temporary flash of light blinded Remia, making him cover his eyes with his forearm. As a precaution, he rolled to the side before righting himself on one knee and looking around the room.

Hitler was nowhere to be seen, but Tohsaka still had her bow drawn, and her eyes were focused as if she could see him. She let her arrow fly, and sailed into the darkness before exploding into a massive ball of prana.

H itler came flying out of the darkness, his trenchcoat now in tatters. It looked as though he had a few scratches, but he was mostly unharmed. He landed on his feet.

“Hm… I wasn’t sure before… but now I’m certain he’s gotten better at Witchcraft since we last met,” Tohsaka spoke, calmly reaching for another gem, never taking her eyes off Hitler.

“A lot can happen in twenty-five years,” Hitler responded, taking off the remainder of his jacket and straightening his button-up shirt underneath.

" More than you could possibly know,” Tohsaka responded.

She let loose another arrow. Hitler seemed to move in a strange, otherworldly way, sliding out of the path of the arrow without taking a step. He reached out his hand and created a pistol in it.

Remia took action. He shot, aiming for the pistol. The bullet ripped through the steel, letting out a metallic shriek, and piercing Hitler’s hand, creating a hole in it. Remia then sprinted forward as Tohsaka took out yet another gem.

Hitler quickly retaliated, moving back and creating an automatic rifle of some kind. Bullets rained at Remia, who fired back a single bullet. The bullet flew to the left of Hitler, stopping his progress for a moment.

Remia flicked his finger and Detonated the line. Suddenly, a light exploded out, following the exact path that the bullet took. Hitler, caught unaware, was flung back towards his initial position.

Remia smirked. Hitler looked at him with an irritated look. His arm had been mangled by the explosion. “Prana detonation? But how…”

“Oh, you’ve heard of it? A special magecraft that no self-respectin’ Magus would be caught dead doin’. Detonates vessels of magical energy like Magic Circuits and whatnot. The more mana inside, the bigger the boom. Tends to backfire if you ain’t careful,” Remia bragged, twirling his pistol. “I made myself a special gun that can carve itty bitty Magic Circuits into the air itself. Ain’t no Magus ever thought of that since they tend to not like guns.”

Hitler growled and materialized another grenade in his hand. He flung it towards Remia, who intercepted the grenade with his own shot, making sure to cover his eyes before he got blinded again.

Shortly thereafter, Tohsaka jumped, firing an arrow at Hitler’s feet. It exploded, throwing Hitler into the air. Remia aimed again and fired. Hitler reached out his hand and attempted to perform some kind of Witchcraft, but the bullet moved through the hole in his hand from Remia’s shot earlier.

R emia flicked his finger, and Detonated the Magic Circuit that was now pierced through Hitler’s hand. Another flash of light, and Hitler went twirling through the air across the room, slapping against the concrete wall with a missing arm. He was bleeding profusely now.

Tohsaka had prepared another arrow, but wasn’t firing. Hitler was in a perfect position to be killed here… and yet Tohsaka wasn’t taking the opportunity to do so.

Remia gritted his teeth.  _ Well, if she ain’t gonna take the opportunity to kill ‘im… _ Remia thought. He turned and aimed his pistol again. He fired, but Hitler’s body suddenly became a manikin, and the bullet hit it uselessly.

Remia’s eyes widened. It had always been a manikin. Tohsaka had said that Hitler’s skill in Witchcraft had acceled… and it looked like it had acceled enough to make a manikin look and act like Hitler. Which meant this had all been a distraction.

" Hold on,” Tohsaka spoke suddenly.

Tohsaka said something inaudible and removed the gem arrow from her bow. She tapped on the end of it, and it shrank back into an ordinary gem. She moved her clothed arm, the one with the black garment on it, and shadows came off of it, dripping like liquid. The liquid hit the ground, forming a puddle before taking the form of one of her shadow familiars. “Find him,” she ordered.

Remia took off his hat and scratched his head. “Well damn. What do you ‘spose he was distractin’ us from?” Remia asked, replacing his hat and moving back over to Tohsaka.

Tohsaka didn’t respond. She had her head slightly down, and a hand on her chin. She was obviously thinking.

Suddenly, Tohsaka spun, throwing Remia out of the way and throwing a gem out towards an empty part of the room. The gem expanded into a vibrantly glowing wall as bullets suddenly came flying in, bouncing harmlessly off of it.

“From wherever he had hid himself,” Tohsaka grunted. Quick as a flash, she had pulled another gemcraft arrow out and had it knocked. She fired the arrow through the shield, and the shield folded around the arrow, strengthening it. It launched towards the side of the building and exploded, causing the silhouette of Hitler to appear for a brief second. Black shadows formed under Tohsaka’s feet, and she bolted after him.

H e felt something. And it wasn’t good. He pulled out his revolver and turned to the opposite side of the room that Tohsaka had moved towards.

" You’re not coming with me?” Tohsaka shouted back at him.

“Wasted all my bullets. Not gonna be a whole lot of help. I’ll meet up with Archer, try an’ figure somethin’ out,” Remia replied.

Tohsaka nodded and resumed her pursuit.

Remia adjusted his hat and cleared his throat. Then he reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a little case. He opened it, revealing twelve more Line Bullets neatly packed within. “Nice of her to let me lie like that…” he spoke aloud. He loaded up six bullets. Then he raised his eyes to the imaginary horizon.

“So… are you gonna just sit in the dark the whole time?” he asked, clasping the case shut and sliding it back into his breast pocket.

Out of the shadows came a man wrapped in leather, with a hood that hid his face. “You knew I was here?”

Remia gave a half-shrug. “Tohsaka was too busy thinkin’ of strategies an’ whatnot. Figured I’d let her go and take on Hitler. Tohsaka was being more conservative with her arrows while I had been firing without constraint. Maybe Hitler knew that would happen and just wanted to waste my bullets with his fakes… and Tohsaka had seen through it. She’s a lot smarter than I am.”

Assassin tilted his head. “And the way you speak makes it seem as though you know you’re about to die?”

Remia through his head back and laughed. “Is  _ that _ what it sounded like to you? Hitler ain’t a foe I can take on. I’d only be gettin’ in the way, sad as I am to say. Tohsaka is powerful enough on her own to take care of that guy. It ain’t an admission of my death, it's a statement o’ confidence in my ally,” Remia explained.

Assassin dipped his head. “You’re all so very funny. Talking about allies like they matter…” Assassin responded, summoning his crossbow to his hands. “And what if I kill you in an instant… and sneak up on her?”

Remia gave another smirk. “Sorry man. I don’t deal in ‘what ifs’. You an’ me. Right now. That’s what I deal in.”

Assassin shook his head. He lazily moved the crossbow to a position in which it could hit Remia before firing. Remia quickly Reinforced his legs and dashed to the side. Immediately he felt a cramp build up in his leg.

I t had been a while since he had used Reinforcement on himself… usually he used it on his Line Bullets to help them pierce shields and survive the process of carving a Magic Circuit into the air. Using it on his own body tended to make him cramp up, and if he used it too much, it’d lead to his limb of choice being paralyzed.

" Mm. I see,” Assassin said, as if he had a revelation. “So you’re not as much of a fool as I thought you were.”

He grasped his crossbow with a little more zeal. “This’ll make for good target practice.”

Remia took off as another bolt came his way, blowing open a hole in the concrete behind where he had been. Remia fired his first Line Bullet. Assassin easily stepped to the side, letting it fly past him. He seemed to be unconcerned that the Magic Circuit had been carved into the air beside him…

It was like he hadn’t seen the fight before. But Remia knew that he had, he was just trying to psyche out Remia. But that was fine. Because with six bullets, he could fire enough Lines to cover the entire floor. Not from one position… but by causing a chain reaction in each of the Magic Circuits he created, he might create an explosion large enough that it could pierce Assassin’s “Servant armor” and cause the Prana inside his Spiritual Core to explode. Considering just how much Magical Energy there was in a Spiritual Core… it was unlikely that Remia would survive.

So yes. Remia did know that he was about to die. But he was at least going to kill this asshole first.

Remia poured more Magical Energy into his legs and eyes, taking careful aim as he darted about the room, creating an intricate web of Lines. Assassin seemed to watch him carefully down the stock of his crossbow, only moving enough to dodge out of the way of Remia’s bullets.

Remia could see Assassin tensing up. He was about to fire. Remia reinforced his feet and flicked them sideways. The crossbow bolt left the crossbow.

Despite Remia’s attempt to dodge, the bolt still hit his side, tearing him backwards into the wall. Remia felt bones crack and the burn of the bolt leaving through his back. Blood spurted out of Remia’s mouth. He nearly blacked out from the pain. As his head dropped, he saw a large chunk of flesh now missing from the side of his abdomen. His vision started to darken.

He forced his eyes to stay open. He needed to stay in the fight. His grip hadn't failed him. He still had his gun in his hand. He needed to use it.

“Huh. Once I got used to your speed, it wasn’t that hard to pin you down. My bad. Now I wish I had played with you a little more.”

Remia lifted his gun to fire, but Assassin was immediately in front of him, slapping it out of his hands. He was too slow again.

He slumped onto the floor, making a wet thud against the concrete. He hurt like hell.

Assassin looked down at him and made his crossbow disappear. A serrated knife appeared instead. “Then again, I didn’t hit your head. That would’ve been a real test.”

Remia coughed up blood. “What say you… let me get up... an’ try again?”

Assassin kicked Remia in his wound. An excruciating wave of pain slammed into Remia and radiated through his brain. He let out a wild scream.

“Can’t say I appreciate fools. What did you think would happen, taking on a Servant? Even one as weak as I am is far greater than anything an ordinary human could defeat…” Assassin mocked, crouching down to him.

“I… thought you’d… monologue for a bit… since you’re a dick. And give time… for Tohsaka to get to… your boss…”

Assassin pulled his knife up to Remia’s neck. “You like monologues? Well then, listen up. I do not serve the Other Caster. And had you not called me out, I would have stayed hidden. I want his defeat as much as you do. You threw your life away to protect someone who was never in danger. And as you die, I want you to curse me. Curse the man who did this to you… the man who will bring about the end of the world… curse the name of Robin Hood.”

A blade suddenly sliced at Assassin’s neck. His leather hood blocked the attack, but Assassin still jumped up and sliced at the opponent who did so.

“Damn… I was hoping I’d be strong enough to pierce that hide…” Saber whimpered, having parried Assassin’s strike. A spear made of stone suddenly sailed in over Saber’s shoulder. It hit Assassin square in the chest, but instead of breaking or stabbing into him, it melted, as if made of mud. It then moved with a mind of its own, wrapping itself around Assassin and cocooning him in stone.

Assassin broke out easily, but it gave Saber enough time to charge forward and ram into Assassin, taking him into the darkness of the building, the sounds of their struggling fading as they got farther and farther away.

Shortly thereafter, a man and a woman came running to Remia. The man was quite old, with a moustache and a monocle. The girl was a teenager, and looked very pale and weak, with dark rings forming around her eyes.

“Travick… will you be able to heal him?” Trussa asked, catching her breath.

Travick took a knee and examined Remia’s wounds. “I can assist… but that wound pierced entirely through him. He’d need healing magecraft of a higher order than I am capable of to heal it properly. All I can do is apply First Aid,” Travick replied.

" Then please… do so,” Trussa replied.

" H… hold on a god… damn minute here. Don’t talk like… I’m already dead...” Remia sputtered out.

“Quite right,” Archer said, appearing behind them.

“Oh… where the hell... have  _ you _ been?” Remia grunted. Archer placed a hand on Travick and moved him to the side gently. He summoned Bloody Cloak to his hand. He placed it over Remia, and he felt a cooling come over the burning sensation that had been ripping through his stomach.

“I apologize… I had been keeping an eye on Lancer and Rider… I had neglected to consider that Assassin would attack you, even though Tohsaka had said such a thing was a possibility,” Archer spoke.

Remia shook his head. “Better late than never, I say,” Remia spoke.

Archer looked grim. Remia knew why. 

Travick cleared his throat. “We should go ensure Saber is fairing well…” he said, motioning for Trussa to join him. Trussa nodded slowly and followed, leaving Remia and Archer alone.

“Listen, you were injured, man. Ain’t no way you’d be in any shape to fight Assassin. Hell, I doubt you’re in any shape to not have this cloak around you right now,” Remia consoled.

Archer looked him in the eyes. “You do not need to comfort me. I am not the one who is…” his words stopped suddenly. He looked down, shying away from Remia’s gaze. That worried him more than anything Archer would’ve finished that sentence with.

" What? What’s wrong? I ain’t in too good a shape, but this cloak-”

“Cannot cure poison,” Archer interrupted.

R emia furrowed his brow. He looked at his hand, and saw a green coloration seeping into his veins. “Well… I’ll be damned…”

* * *

Chiaki fell to the ground and tumbled, rolling to disperse the impact, and got to her feet, fists up in a Pankration stance like Berserker had taught her. A side effect of stealing so many Magic Crests over the years was that she had developed a knack for picking up skills pretty quickly. She was still nowhere near a level that she could call herself “good” with Pankration, but she had enough that it would give her an edge over someone who had no experience in close combat, which she prayed was the case with Lilith.

The surroundings stunned Chiaki out of her train of thought. She was somewhere completely different than where she thought they would be. They were in some sort of meadow, with trees, springs, and the sun coming down on her. The air was dry, and warm enough to comfort her, but not so hot that she would begin to sweat. Most of the trees were bearing fruit of some kind, though they looked very alien. It was like she had somehow wandered into a paradise.

“What… is this place?” Chiaki asked abset-mindedly.

" It was my home… a long time ago,” Caster lamented, kneeling some distance away. It looked like she was trying to mold something into existence from some strange clay-like material.

Chiaki was caught off guard. This was much different than what she was expecting. Of both this place, and of Caster.

Chiaki looked at what Caster was making. Another mask, shaped like a face. Chiaki furrowed her brow and moved slightly, leaning around to where she could see Caster’s face. Chiaki’s eyes widened.

She was absolutely and irrefutably beautiful. She might’ve been the most gorgeous woman Chiaki had ever seen in her life, her present beauty only marred by her distress over not wearing a mask.

Caster, not aware of Chiaki’s gawking, finished her mask and put it on, taking a sigh of relief as if she had been straining with something heavy.

It raised the question in Chiaki’s mind. It had to be asked. “Why are you wearing a mask when you’re so… uh… not ugly?”

C aster turned her head slightly. Chiaki assumed she was now looking at her, though she couldn’t be sure, thanks to her mask.

“Because my face was given to me by someone else. I’d rather live wearing a face that's of my own making.”

Chiaki raised an eyebrow. “And… who gave you that face?”

Caster turned her head more definitively at Chiaki. Chiaki took the moment to examine her masked face. It was, without a doubt, molded into a different face than the one she actually had.

“God,” Caster stated simply.

C hiaki nodded. “Should’ve guessed.”

“Yes.”

Chiaki glanced around. “Then that would make this the Garden of Eden?”

“As close as I remember it. It had been thousands upon thousands of years since I had last seen it at the point of my death. Truthfully, I don’t think I could genuinely remake it’s splendor…”

There was a silence. Chiaki was still holding steady in a fighting position. Caster was still kneeling, unmoving. Chiaki was ready for her to make the slightest move...

“Oh, stop. You know you’re not going to actually be able to defeat me alone,” Caster sighed, standing up. She looked down at her dress and saw it was stained with rainwater and dirt. She snapped her fingers and in a green flash, she was perfectly restored to her former, pristine self.

Chiaki moved her tongue around her mouth, but didn’t move. “So… what happens now?”

Caster shook her head. “Nothing, really. I’ve summoned the Samael Descent, my ultimate Noble Phantasm, down upon the city outside. Now, I simply wait for the angels to begin reaping the souls of the humans and the Mana to start flowing in.”

Chiaki tensed up. “Samael?”

“Oh yes. My husband. He has a couple different titles now, the Morning Star, the Enemy… but his real name was always Samael. He’ll be joining us as soon as I have the mana to summon him. For now, his army will gather what I need from the life force of the people in town,” Caster explained.

“And to think I was starting to feel sorry for you,” Chiaki growled, tightening her fists.

Her eyes shot to Caster’s feet and stance. Given her body positioning… she could come at her from three… four… a lot of different ways. There was no way for Chiaki to close the distance fast enough, so she‘d let Caster make the first move. Correctly predicting that move would be the key to warding her off.

Caster giggled. “Oh, there’s that uptightness again. Hm. Since we have some time on our hands…”

Chiaki threw her fist out in a jab, towards where she determined Caster would be coming from. She was correct, but her fist was too slow to connect, and Caster simply backed away before it could hit her.

C aster made a humming sound. “Seems like you’ve been learning a thing or two from Mr. Muscles,” Caster spoke, walking around Chiaki and sizing her up. She had felt this pressure before. When Berserker had first been summoned. And oddly enough, she felt Caster’s purpose in doing so was largely the same as his… which meant-

Chiaki whirled and threw her hand into a backfist that accurately slapped Caster's head as she attempted to dash around Chiaki. Caster, taken completely by surprise, recovered and jumped backwards, creating a large distance between them.

Caster tilted her head. If she had felt any pain from Chiaki’s strike, she didn’t show it. Chiaki repositioned herself, taking another fighting stance.

Caster wasn’t taking her seriously. Chiaki was fine with that. She’d let her continue to underestimate her for as long as she wanted. It just gave Chiaki more of an opportunity to...

. ..do what? For the first time, Chiaki realized how grave a situation she was in. There was no way for Chiaki to really defeat Caster. She had no offensive spells besides the Lightning Cestus, and the only reason she had lasted this long was because Caster was playing with her. Had Caster the mind, she could likely incinerate Chiaki before she even knew what she was doing. Which lead to the obvious question:

Why on earth was Chiaki so calm about this? For some reason, her hands didn’t shake. She wasn’t indecisive at all. She knew that, for as long as she could, she was going to fight Caster. And why?

Because that's what Berserker would do.

Chiaki narrowed her eyes, calmly keeping a careful watch of Caster’s limbs. A slight movement in any of them could tip Chiaki off about where she was attacking from next.

Caster’s left foot shifted. It likely meant she was going to try and swerve around for that angle, and attack from Chiaki’s blind spot. Chiaki was ready for it.

Caster suddenly started to walk slowly in the opposite direction.

_ Misdirection. She’s trying to call my attention away from- _

Chiaki twisted her hips, pivoting her power into her arm as she threw out a punch straight at where Caster was coming at her from. And unlike the one before last, this one landed heavily into Caster’s chest. Caster stumbled back, likely more surprised than damaged.

“How the hell…. There is no way you’re able to see me!” Caster shouted, lunging forward.

Her stance was sloppy, and Chiaki saw the perfect opportunity. She stepped in, placing her right foot between Caster’s legs. Chiaki whipped her arms around Caster and leaned back, letting Caster’s own momentum help Chiaki swing her up and over Chiaki’s shoulder.

Caster may have been a servant. She had special defenses against non-magical attacks… but that didn’t mean that she was heavier than an ordinary human.

With a heavy grunt, Chiaki slammed Caster down onto the ground in a single, fluid motion from her shoulder, like Berserker had taught her. She knew better than to let her attack end there. She quickly raised her right fist above her head. Lightning struck her hand, and she bellowed as she brought her fist down onto Caster’s head. As the impact landed, she heard the crack of thunder, and saw lightning course through Caster’s body and into the ground below, creating an imprint of lightning bolts spiraling out from underneath Caster’s body.

Caster exploded in green light, throwing Chiaki off her feet backwards. Chiaki rotated in the middle of the air, rolling as she hit the ground and getting to her feet immediately. Caster was already in front of her, her claws now aimed directly at Chiaki’s face.

Chiaki tried to slip her head around the attack, and throw out a jab to stop Caster’s forward momentum. Unfortunately, rather than Chiaki successfully dodging around the attack, she felt the claws pierce into her cheek and tear into her face.

Caster violently ripped Chiaki backwards again, throwing her off her feet. Chiaki felt the hot pain in her face. Chiaki rolled again, trying to right herself before Caster could follow up with another attack.

Much to Chiaki’s surprise, she wasn’t already attempting to attack her again. She was simply standing there, evidently looking at Chiaki. She was still standing as if ready to attack… but she was stopped for whatever reason.

" What? How did you…?” Caster asked in bewilderment.

Chiaki blinked. The hot pain in her face faded away almost instantly. She reached up and touched her face. There was still blood on it… but there were no wounds whatsoever.

She took her hand away from her face and looked at it. She hadn’t used any healing magecraft to heal herself… and anything she  _ could’ve _ done would’ve taken much longer.

“There, all better,” a voice somewhere to her left spoke. She looked in that direction.

And there he was.

Chiaki blinked. She blinked again. Clearly, she was hallucinating. There was no possible way that she was seeing what she was seeing.

He wore a long forest green coat, had red wavy hair, and held a blood red cane behind his back, where his hands were also folded.

He stepped in front of Chiaki, facing Caster. “I’ll take care of this.”

Caster straightened up, and summoned her staff to her hand. “Who are you, and how did you get in here?”

“My name is Uhlan. And I got in here because, simply put, I am the most powerful Magus of this era. It is a pleasure to meet you.”


	18. The Most Powerful Man the World

Sakura tore down the hallway, flipping past Hitler. She let loose another gemcraft arrow, and it passed through Hitler harmlessly. An illusion. Sakura glowered. She nocked another gemcraft arrow and aimed carefully.

There were five Hitlers in sight. Not that any of them were the real him. A good illusionist never revealed himself. This many copies meant that he was likely waiting for her to make a move first, and then counterattack and kill her.

She closed her eyes. She felt the sources of Mana coming from those dolls he had made… but there was no hiding the genuine article. His Noble Phantasm was too powerful for it to be hidden so easily.

She felt it. He was channeling a massive amount of Mana into something… or perhaps someone. Regardless, he was next to a window off to her Southeast. “Should Caster fail… you have my permission to attack,” she heard him say.

Sakura whirled around and let her arrow fly, aimed at the real Hitler. Hitler turned on his heel and slid around it, using that Witchcraft he had used earlier. Sakura focused, and a familiar popped out of the window sill, catching her wayward arrow before it flew out the window.

“You’re quite good at tracking me down. Your familiars are more difficult to destroy than I had initially thought,” Hitler narrated, summoning a grenade to one hand and a pistol to another. “I do have to admit that I’m surprised by you, Ms. Tohsaka. You weren’t very good at gemcraft during the last war. I see you’ve compensated for that by taking up archery.”

Hitler eyed her bow. “And that would be your former Servant’s bow, wouldn’t it?”

Sakura said nothing. She grabbed another gem, holding a second in the palm of her hand. She drew her bow again. She had one shot at this. One shot was all she needed.

She focused again. This time, numerous red beady eyes appeared on the floor underneath Hitler. Her familiars bubbled up from the ground, grabbing onto Hitler’s feet and attempting to hold him in place.

Hitler kicked them off and dashed to the side before Sakura could fire. Sakura gritted her teeth. So he wasn’t a Spiritual Body. That meant that this was a manikin, and the real one was somewhere around here still.

Sakura kept her eyes on the manikin. It just meant that she would have to…

Sakura spied Command Seals on the back of his hand. The earlier manikin didn’t have one of those… She had assumed that Hitler didn’t have any at all due to being a Heroic Spirit, so the Grail wouldn’t allow him to technically wield Command Seals. Since the Master of Berserker in the last war had used some form of book to act as his contract, she had assumed that he must’ve done something similar to obtain the right to summon a Servant in this war.

But if he had Command Seals, then that meant that he was a human. He had been incarnated somehow. Such a thing would only have been possible if he had achieved the Holy Grail…

Sakura had her realization. With the amount of Mana that his Noble Phantasm gave him…

She remembered everything she could about the Noble Phantasm. It was “The Holocaust”. The original meaning of the word “Holocaust” was that of a ritual in which you would sacrifice something to god with fire. However, with Hitler’s slaughter of the Jews being equated with that, Hitler had gained the ability to take mana from those that died around him, including Servants.

In other words, he had stolen most of the mana meant for the Grail because of his ability to steal mana from defeated enemies. The Servant's corpses that were meant to power the Grail instead went to him. In essence, he must’ve become a miniature Holy Grail himself.

And that meant he could’ve incarnated himself with sheer willpower, should he desire to. And that also meant that her familiars, which were effective against Spiritual Bodies, were useless against him.

Sakura took a breath. This was going to be far easier than she thought.

Hitler raised his gun and began firing bullets, but he kept his grenade ready.

Sakura darted around, never staying in the same place, and moving erratically, so Hitler wouldn’t be able to predict where she was going. She didn’t have enhanced speed, like Remia did, so a single slip up and she was dead. She was used to working under that kind of pressure.

Since Hitler had that sliding-type ability to increase his mobility, he was too fast to be hit with a projectile as slow as an arrow. Which meant Sakura needed to get in close.

Sakura pulled out a gem from her bag and threw it to the right of Hitler, causing it to expand into a wide shield. Sakura fired her arrow in the opposite direction, preventing Hitler from dodging that direction. She summoned familiars beneath her feet and launched herself forward, directly at Hitler. In the middle of the air, she ordered her familiar at the window sill to throw the arrow at her. She threw the gem in the palm of her hand out, intercepting Hitler’s thrown grenade and detonating it. Sakura caught the arrow her familiar had thrown and she flew through the explosion and into Hitler.

Sakura flipped, pinning both Hitler’s arms to the ground. She drew the arrow back into her bow and unleashed it directly into Hitler’s head. His head slapped into the floor, not even bouncing. His eyes lost their light, and he died.

Sakura just stared at him for a moment, making sure there was no movement. Making sure that he was, in fact, dead. After waiting for a while, she nodded her head, satisfied.

She stepped off him.  _ Lancer… how are things going? _

There was no response.  _ Lancer? Have you defeated Rider yet? _

Sakura went cold. She looked up, towards the top of the tower. She felt something coming. Something big. Something powerful.

Another Servant.

* * *

Berserker stared at the balls of light as they came down in countless droves.

Another surge of Mana suddenly came from behind him. He turned, and saw a giant waterspout on the coastline, towering over the city. Within it, he could see various shipwrecks twirling about. He realized it was made of dark water, and on the front of it, made of that same dark water, there was a giant skull leering at them.

On one side, trapped by Caster’s army. On the other, trapped by Rider’s imminent attack. Chiaki was gone. Their forces were scattered. He doubted that there was any real way to prevail at this point… at least not without severe casualties. It would be better if he could just get into Caster’s Reality Marble and get Chiaki. Then he could run. They could come up with a plan later, perhaps, but right now...

"Berserker!” Lancer called as he landed on the roof. “What the hell is going on? What are those things?”

“I can’t begin to guess. They’re Caster’s Noble Phantasm. Beyond that, I have no idea,” Berserker replied, his mind still on Chiaki.

“Whatever they are, they look like they’re targeting the humans in the city. I doubt it's for good intentions. I can assume Rider has a similar idea,” Lancer replied, motioning to the waterspout. He took a few steps towards the edge, readying his spear.

“We can take care of that in a second. Chiaki is trapped in that Reality Marble of Caster’s. We need to get in there immediately,” Berserker interrupted, grabbing hold of Lancer’s shoulder.

Lancer threw him off. Anger flashed across his face for a moment. He looked as though he was going to say something, but he stopped himself.

He growled and moved past Berserker. “I’ll do what I can, if only because it seems Rider’s waterspout is stationary for the moment. But someone needs to intercept Caster’s… whatever they are,” Lancer finally responded.

“Angels,” a man answered.

Lancer and Berserker both looked and saw a well-dressed, good-looking man approach them out of nowhere. He had a long forest green coat and red wavy hair. He strolled up with a red cane in one hand and his other hand folded behind him.

“Don’t worry. I’ll save Chiaki, and my Servant will be here soon to deal with the Army of Samael. You two won’t be necessary,” he spoke casually, moving closer to Lancer. He reached out his cane and poked something invisible. A moment later, he disappeared into a shadow.

Despite their superhuman abilities, neither of them were fast enough at comprehending what had just happened.

“Was that… a man?” Lancer asked.

"It certainly wasn’t a woman… but he looked familiar somehow,” Berserker replied.

“He was a Magus. I could sense Mana in him, but the amount was… inhuman,” Lancer posited, looking around. “And it seemed he pierced the Reality Marble…”

“What? You made it sound as if it were some difficult task,” Berserker responded.

“Not difficult, just time consuming. At least for someone of my level.”

“And yet he just slipped in, easy as that?”

Lancer stayed quiet for a moment. “Yes… Actually, that must be what he did. He couldn’t have broken through, he must’ve just teleported himself inside.”

“Teleport? I thought something like that couldn’t happen in this era without the Grail, or at least Command Seals.”

“So did I. But I’ve been wrong before.” Lancer shook his head. “We can theorize all day if we like, but if we’re going to get into that Reality Marble, we’re going to have to start-”

They both felt it at once. It was staggering. Earth-shattering. Mind-bending. Whatever it was, it was impossibly powerful. And it was headed their way.

“That… what the hell…?”

“If I had to guess… that would be his Servant.”

A white light, no different than a star, appeared on the horizon. In a matter of moments, it grew brighter and brighter before landing perfectly on the rooftop. There was no impact, as if his arrival were no more than a light gust of wind stopping dead in its tracks against a stone wall.

The being was encased in a suit of silver armor. The top and back of the helmet was open, letting his hair fall out. His hair itself glowed with a white light and floated about ethereally, as if he were constantly underwater. On his back, there was a set of angelic wings that glowed the same color as his hair. Around his waist glittered a magnificent belt of numerous colors, that shone like a star.

Berserker and Lancer readied themselves immediately. There was no telling what this new face was capable of, especially since they could feel the immense amount of Mana that radiated off of him.

The Stranger regarded them. “And you are the Heroes of False Divinity? Theseus and Odin? Why bare your fangs at me?”

Neither of them spoke. Berserker was just being cautious. He assumed Lancer was doing the same.

“Who are you?” Lancer asked.

The Stranger bowed to them. “I am Saber. I’ll have to ask my Master for permission to reveal my True Name.”

Berserker glowered. “Now I know that that's a lie. We already know the Saber of this war. And he’s definitely not you.”

True Saber did not respond. Instead, he looked around himself. “What has become of my Master? Has he summoned me here under false pretenses?”

“Your Master just disappeared into Caster’s Reality Marble. If you’d like to see him alive, I suggest you stay out of my way and let me break in,” Lancer spoke.

Berserker stayed quiet. It sounded like Lancer was testing him.

“The… Army of Samael, as your Master called them, is descending upon the town. If you have any form of moral fiber, you will assist us in defeating them,” Lancer continued.

True Saber looked at the cascade of light about to descend on the town. “I see.” He walked slowly to the edge of the building.

“ _ Heavenly host, once commanded by Samael, _ ” he bellowed. His voice did not rise in temperament. It simply amplified itself out, reaching each of the angels, who froze the moment his first word left his mouth.

“ _ Your duties to slay humanity are for a promised time not yet known to this era. You shall desist, lest you are commanded by God himself. _ ”

A second crawled by. The horde of angels then began to flicker away like failing lights. The clouds above them slowed to a stop, and the light within them disappeared. Soon, the cloudy night sky was clear of the Army of Samael.

Berserker and Lancer could only stare in awe at the display.  _ He defeated them… with his voice alone? _ Berserker thought.

Berserker glanced over to Lancer. Lancer had a bead of sweat coming off his brow. Even Lancer was nervous about this one.

True Saber turned to them. “Is such an act a satisfactory symbol of good intention? I do not come here to harm those who would carry out justice, for I am the hand of justice itself. If you would aid humanity in their time of need, then you are my ally,” True Saber spoke. True Saber moved past them and clenched his fist at the border of the Reality Marble.

It shattered, flooding the rooftop with fake sunlight. A wide whole that led into Caster’s Reality Marble now separated half of the top of the tower. Just inside was True Saber’s Master. He stood between Chiaki, who was on the ground and leaning up against a tree, and Caster, who was on a single knee, breathing heavily with her staff in hand.

Berserker dashed in immediately, moving directly to Chiaki. “Chiaki! Are you okay?” Berserker asked, crouching down to her.

“It’s… it’s him…” she whispered, almost absent-mindedly.

Berserker realized why True Saber’s Master looked so familiar. Berserker clenched his fists and stood up, turning to him.

“So… you’re Uhlan,” Berserker growled. Uhlan looked over his shoulder at Berserker. He smiled at him. 

“And you’re Theseus. I’ve been keeping an eye on you. And I have to say I’m not very impressed with the way you’ve been looking after Chiaki. No matter. I’ll be taking things from here,” he spoke.

Berserker felt rage build up inside him and instantly boil over. “Like  _ hell _ you will!” he screamed, rushing at him and launching a titanic fist at him.

Uhlan calmly watched him come. Instantly, True Saber was between them, catching Berserker’s fist in his hand. Berserker tried to blow right through him, but True Saber remained almost unfazed from Berserker’s attack. In the back, Berserker saw Caster freeze up the moment she saw True Saber.

“Stay your hand a moment,” True Saber spoke.

“Stay my hand? You speak of justice, and yet you allow such a vile human being be your Master?” Berserker bellowed.

“For the moment, yes. At the conclusion of this war, I shall dispatch him the same as I shall dispatch these villains that plague you,” True Saber replied simply.

Berserker raised another hand, ready to strike, but before he could unleash it, True Saber let go of the clenched hand and walked by him. Berserker, not expecting such a move, caught himself before he fell forward. Uhlan was also now walking alongside True Saber, dispelling any idea of a continued attack for now.

Berserker looked back to Chiaki. She was still sitting against the tree, breathing heavily, tears spilling out of her eyes, which had trouble focusing on anything. His rage disappeared as quickly as it had appeared. He kneeled down to her and placed a hand on her shoulder.

“It’s going to be okay Chiaki, I promise. I won’t-”

Something changed in Chiaki. He wasn’t sure what it was. The instant his hand touched her, her eyes hardened. The tears stopped flowing.

“I… I am going… to fucking… kill him…” she sputtered out. Her face immediately lightened again after she finished saying that, and she looked at Berserker, confused, as if she herself hadn’t meant to say it.

“I… I’m going… to…?”

Berserker was just as confused as she. All he could do at the moment was pull her into a hug. “You’re right. Your father will rest soon.”

Berserker had to close his eyes since the sunlight reflected in his Ariadne Thread…

The thread that encased the same arm that he had touched Chiaki with.

Berserker let go of Chiaki and stood up, helping her stand. She moved off to the side, but Berserker stayed where he was. He looked at his hand, the one that the Ariadne Thread was around.

She had that change in her eyes and voice the moment the Ariadne Thread had touched her.

“Berserker…” Chiaki said.

But… what did that mean? She couldn’t be…

“Berserker!” Chiaki called, getting his attention. Berserker turned to look.

True Saber and his master were staring out at the waterspout. The skull on the front of it had its mouth open, and it was moving to the top of the spout.

Rider was making his move.

* * *

Assassin and Saber went tumbling through a piece of plywood. They righted themselves again and Saber went on the offensive, activating his Mana Burst and trying to get his hits in wherever he could.

No matter how hard he swung, however, all his blows seemed to bounce off that animal hide that Assassin was wearing.

Assassin threw out a kick that caught Saber in the gut, which sent him flying back into the wall, cracking and splintering a few wooden beams that caused the roof of the section that they were in to collapse on top of them. Being non magical in nature, neither of them were affected by it.

“You are a terrible fighter,” Assassin mocked.

Saber nodded in agreement. “But just you wait until my army gets here.”

“Oh? And what army is that? The old man and the sickly girl?”

Saber felt red creep into his cheeks. He did have to admit that they didn’t evoke a large amount of fear in the opponent by any means… but they were still his Mast... er… minions. Master minions. That was a good word for them.

Despite Trussa getting sick for whatever reason, she had insisted on coming along. And Travick had stopped trying to fight her on her decisions.

Assassin whistled, knocking Saber out of his thoughts. “Well? Are you just going to stand there, or are you going to actually fight, Azi Dehaka?”

Saber froze up. He cleared his throat. “So… you have heard of me. Perhaps we knew one another in life?”

Assassin shook his head. “No. I’ve only heard about you in this era recently,” Assassin replied, walking slowly up to Saber. He stopped right in front of him, and Saber did his best to hide the fact that he was shaking with fear.

Not being able to see Assassin’s face didn’t make him  _ scarier _ than Rider… it also didn’t make him any less scary.

“The son of Angra Mainyu. I know  _ exactly _ who you are,” Assassin stated ominously.

Saber brought his sword around to slash at Assassin. Assassin did nothing and let the blade bounce harmlessly off of him. Assassin laughed at him for his trouble.

“I haven’t given up on you yet, Azi Dehaka. Come and find me in the cave on the side of Mt. Ganz. We’ll discuss your role in this war further once there.”

Saber didn’t know what to say for a moment.

“Hm?” Assassin suddenly noticed something from off to the side.

He dashed back as several beams of light converged on where he once was, exploding right in Saber’s face and knocking him off his feet.

Saber groaned as he stood up, pain wracking his body. Assassin was nowhere to be found, and Travick and Trussa came running up to him.

“Urgh… you could’ve aimed a little better, you old fart,” Saber complained.

“Yes, unfortunately you’re still alive,” Travick shot back.

Saber looked around for his dropped sword and retrieved it. “I was the only one brave enough to come and confront this guy, okay? Where were you, huh?”

“Oh yes, exceedingly brave, the way you stood there and shook in your boots. And without the help of a Command Seal, no less.”

“At least I was being more useful than you.”

“At least Assassin felt the need to dodge  _ my _ attack. Whatever you called that random flailing about was utterly pitiful.”

“Saber! Travick! Won’t yo-” Trussa’s beratement was interrupted with a coughing fit. Immediately, Travick was at her side, holding a cloth for her to cough into.

“I warned you what trying to fight with this kind of illness would do…” Travick murmured.

“I will… be right in… just a moment,” Trussa replied, catching her breath after her coughing fit was over.

Travick thought for a moment. “You two head back to where Remia and Archer are. I’ll scout around and check to see where else we can be useful… that is if you don’t think it's in our best interest to retreat entirely, young mistress?”

Trussa shook her head. “Our allies are embattled. So too, shall we.”

Saber nodded his head. “Just what I was about to say.”

Travick instructed Saber to take Trussa’s arm, which he did reluctantly. Even Trussa remained adamant that she didn’t need the assistance, but Saber found her heavily relying on his arm to help her move.

Saber felt another twinge of pity for her as they began their move back towards Remia. She was in bad shape, that was for certain. But she wouldn’t listen to him if he told her to retreat. She still had that rebellious streak in her. And it wasn’t like he could force anyone to listen to him the way Caster or Rider or Assassin could, by just frightening them.

“Man… I’m really losing control of my role as villain here…” Saber lamented.

Trussa softly giggled. “Maybe… you weren’t meant to be the bad guy.”

Saber laughed in return. “Oh, sure. The only child of the evilest person in existence, destined to plunge the world into darkness. I’m prime ‘hero’ material.”

“I’m serious…”

Saber stopped and looked at her. Trussa looked at him. “Why  _ can’t _ you be the hero?”

Saber looked up, thinking about it for a moment. The thought had never really occurred to him.

Trussa continued. “If you think about it… you saved Chiaki on the first day. You saved Remia just now. Even if you are a bit cowardly… I think you just have the natural instincts to help others.”

Ever since he was little, everyone around him had told him of his destiny. All the viziers of the kingdom told him all about who he was, since he didn’t know. They also told him exactly what to do, since he didn’t know. They also told him how to do it, since he didn’t know. This entire time… it was like he had been a person completely fabricated to carry out their wills. He had never once questioned what it was he  _ wanted _ to do, as opposed to what he was  _ supposed _ to do.

Saber nodded to himself. He was the rightful ruler of the world, and that made him the most powerful man in the world, whether he was incarnated or Heroic Spirit.

Saber looked at Trussa. “You know, Master Minion Trussa… I think you may have a point. As the most powerful man in the world, I have the ability to change my destiny. I’ll still take over the world, of course, but who says I have to be a dark ruler?”

Saber grasped his sword with his empty hand and lifted it above his head. “I shall be Zahhak, the one destined to plunge the world into darkness, no more! Henceforth, I shall be known as Zahhak, the destined saviour of the world!”

Trussa smiled. “Honestly, I am very surprised you were able to come to that decision so easily. Especially considering your entire childhood was all… well… dead puppies and the like.”

Saber shrugged and sheathed his sword once more. “Well, uh… to be perfectly honest with you… my childhood wasn’t that bad. And… I’ve… never actually met my father either,” Saber admitted, continuing to escort Trussa.

“Really?”

Saber nodded. “Thing is… I was raised by this King named Merdas. I guess he adopted me after I was abandoned by my father. It was only once I was around eighteen or so that I actually was told about my destiny as Azi Dehaka by a wiseman in my father’s council. Before then, everything was quite wonderful for me.”

“Hm… so you actually  _ are _ a prince?”

“Yes. Of both regal status, and demonic status.”

Trussa nodded and looked ahead, smiling. “I guess you truly are a King now, aren’t you?”

The Saber-class Servant smiled in return. “I’ve  _ always _ been a King."

* * *

True Saber stood at the edge of the building, seemingly unaffected by the increasing winds and rain. Uhlan stood next to him, though not at the edge.

It appeared the waterspout was picking up the cursed water of Ran’s Sea, the poisoned water that Rider used, and flung it about, mixing it in with the clouds and rain. True Saber’s armor protected him from it, but that rain was sure to make the townspeople, even those above sea level, drown if it got much worse. He needed to deal with that waterspout… but he had time.

“This would be the Fallen Saint. The Succubus stands at my back… leaving only the Warrior of Two Worlds, the Daemonic Prince, and the Rogue Liar unaccounted for,” True Saber spoke.

“They are little issue. I’m sure the fake Saber and Archer will reveal themselves soon enough. Assassin is not our concern for the moment. Kill those you know are here.”

“Even those not guilty of any crime?”

“You’d have to slay them eventually to win the war. We’d best just do it now,” Uhlan responded logically.

True Saber nodded. “As you command.” He dispelled his wings and summoned his blade to his hand. It was silver and black, and looked both ornate and practical in design. It was the perfect sword.

Lancer twirled his spear and got into his fighting pose. Berserker did the same.

“Not a single Servant has been eliminated, and you speak as if you’ve already won the war?” Lancer growled.

Uhlan laughed. “As if either of you weren’t just as assured of  _ your _ victory? The only difference between my Servant’s sentiments and yours… is that my Servant can back them up.”

Lancer dashed forward, slicing at Uhlan. True Saber appeared in front of him, wielding some kind of golden chain.

Lancer slashed at the chain, knocking it to the side. He twirled and stabbed at True Saber. True Saber ducked back, dodging Lancer’s strikes. The edge of Lancer’s spear began bending, stabbing at True Saber even when he missed. True Saber’s armor easily deflected these blows, as they did not have the strength of Lancer’s real blows.

Lancer was easily the fastest of these Servants… but True Saber could keep dodging if he kept his mind free and observed his strikes correctly.

True Saber reached out and caught the spear by its haft. Lancer jumped, throwing a kick into True Saber’s face. True Saber let go of his sword and reached out, grabbing Lancer by his ankle. He threw Lancer by his leg at an advancing Berserker.

With that distraction, True Saber picked up his blade again and launched forward, summoning the golden chain to him once more.

Berserker, unexpectedly, caught Lancer and righted him almost immediately, like he had seen it coming. This Berserker seemed to have good instincts. True Saber feinted an attack at Berserker, letting Lancer come at him from the side.

True Saber whipped the chain out, wrapping itself around Lancer’s waist while he was unprotected. He could see Lancer’s muscles freeze up. True Saber dodged around Berserker’s strikes and threw a kick at his leg, tripping him up. True Saber planted his foot and twisted, throwing another kick that sent Berserker flying back into the Garden of Eden.

Immediately, True Saber pulled on the chain, bringing the weakened Lancer to him. True Saber stuck out his blade, piercing it into Lancer’s heart.

Lancer looked more stunned than actually pained. “The Chains of Heaven… the same ones I used to bind the Morning Star. You should be honored to be defeated by such a powerful relic. If I might offer some council… do not feel ashamed. Your Divinity was your only weakness,” True Saber spoke.

Lancer coughed up blood and slumped to the ground as True Saber let the Chain fade back into its Spirit Form.

He turned and saw Berserker and his Master look at him in shock. This Lancer must’ve meant something to them.

He heard a wild scream from behind him. He turned to see a tan man with a lightning bolt tattoo sprinting at him, wielding two bayonets. Archer jumped and spun, throwing all his strength into a strike at True Saber. 

The bayonets smashed into True Saber’s helmet, and shattered almost immediately, being ineffective. True Saber took the next instance to counter attack, throwing a fist into Archer’s gut. He felt Archer’s power leave him.

“I applaud your courage and righteous indignation at the sight of a fallen ally. I hold no ill will to the either of you. Neither of you knew the words of God, and cannot be blamed for your ignorance. I would not have slain you were you not necessary to the fulfillment of the Holy Grail,” True Saber consoled. He tossed Archer to the side.

“The end of your long battle has finally come. You can finally rest, noble warrior. Amen.” He moved to finish him, but a voice interrupted him.

“ _ I AM- _ ” Rider’s voice poured out, as if it were the rain itself.

“ _ -THE SECOND COMING- _ ” It continued as True Saber turned towards the coastline, returning his blade to his side for the moment.

“ _ -OF RAN _ .”

True Saber titled his head. It appeared to be time to deal with Rider. “The goddess of the ocean… you could never compare. Nor should you attempt to, David.”

True Saber stepped off the edge of the building, activating his wings to let him float. There was a clear shot from here to the rocky coast, and then to the waterspout beyond. This would do.

“Unlocking the first seal. Ascending to the Second Heaven. Achieving  _ Raqia _ ,” True Saber announced. He felt power surge from his blade. The first scabbard came off, sharpening the sword, and giving it the ethereal glow that his wings and hair shared.

The unstable waterspout suddenly arched backwards and folded in on itself, as if compacting. It then exploded forward, sending all its compressed force into a massive tidal wave that threatened to consume the city. At the head of the raging wave was the skull of Davy Jones. It roared down at the city, and at True Saber,  _ Die _ .

“Saint David… I hold no ill will to you. If it were not for the fear of the sea that mankind had, your legend would never have been twisted into that of Davy Jones. I shall destroy this demon you have become.”

True Saber brought his sword up above his head. The light burst forth from the tip, creating a long beam of energy surging into the sky. “Know peace, and return to Heaven, brother. Amen.”

He brought his sword down, firing the silver beam forward. It cut through the dark watery skull easily, and slammed into Rider’s Spiritual Core within the skull. There was a moment of resistance… and in that moment, True Saber could hear Rider’s screams. They weren’t screams of pain, but screams of anguish, desperation, and frustration. True Saber had heard these screams in the voices of his enemies, when their ambitions were turned to dust before their very eyes. 

The moment of resistance passed, and the Spiritual Core was obliterated, destroying Rider entirely.

The dark waters returned to normal. The water that made up the skull fell on the buildings uselessly, and the water that had flooded the streets began to slowly drain back into the sea… though with the rain, the process was slow.

True Saber turned and stepped back onto the rooftop. He turned, and saw Caster standing at the edge of the Garden of Eden.

_ She shall be the next _ , he decided.

He moved in front of her, frightening her with his speed. She instantly dodged back, throwing out a blast of green energy. It harmlessly dissipated against True Saber’s armor like it was nothing.

Caster wavered and collapsed. She was getting weaker. Her Master must not have been supplying her with mana anymore. He must’ve been dead.

“It’s been… quite a long time...” Caster huffed out.

True Saber titled his head. She was wearing a mask, hiding her face. He flicked a hand forward, breaking the mask off.

“Lilith…”

Lilith smiled at him. “Well? How’s that pathetic, sad man you call a god doing?”

True Saber just stared at her for a short while.

“Unlocking the second seal. Ascending to the Third Heaven. Achieving  _ Shehaquim _ ,” True Saber stated. More power flooded from his blade. He began to lift off the ground. If nothing else, he should destroy this mockery of the Garden of Eden along with her.

“I expected at least an offering of mercy...” Lilith smirked, looking down at the ground.

True Saber stopped his ascent. Normally, the words of his enemies were never taken into consideration… but this time…

“Mercy?” He came back down for a moment. “Do you mistake me for an angel of mercy?”

Lilith’s smile faded, and she looked up at True Saber. 

“You have lost any claim of mercy. You willingly discarded your humanity - the one gift that is greater than any - in order to obtain a power that you can lord over others. I pity you, for you have been lost to the darkness. And it is for souls like yours that I shall weep for an eternity more.”

True Saber lifted his blade above his head and resumed his ascent above her. The white light now surged forward into a multitude of colors, not all being capable of being seen by humans. Its very presence now began to break down the Reality Marble around them.

“But more than weep, I shall  _ rage _ . It was your lack of mercy that made men suffer when you seduced and murdered them. And why? Because you were hurt, and your suffering is more important than those you make suffer? Do not cry  _ mercy _ to  _ me.  _ Do not look to me with bloody hands and feet and ask me to wash you. I am not your  _ saviour _ ! I am not your  _ redeemer _ ! I am the protector of the innocent, and the slayer of the wicked! I was the first Saint, and the first Soldier! It was I who first spilt draconic blood on the ground at the beginning of Time! Have you forgotten me? I am Michael the Archangel! And it is not the salvation of God you shall see this day, but the Glory of  _ Zevul _ !”

True Saber turned the blade down to Lilith, who was already beginning to fade away. “ _ AMEN! _ ”

The blast surged forward, unmaking the world around them. The plants withered away before being incinerated. The water dried up and the sun dimmed away, plunging the garden into a freeze. Very earth turned to dust.

“Not if I… kill you first...” Lilith cursed. She dashed forward with her claws extended as she was torn apart, and she was atomized into nothingness.

True Saber rescinded the holy energy spiralling off his sword. The Reality Marble had been undone. Only the top of the tower and the city below him filled his vision now.

“Replacing the first and second seals. Descending to the First Heaven. Returning to  _ Vilon _ .” He floated back down to the top of the tower.

That arrogance… that conviction to stay true to your side of things, even when you’re wrong… He had seen those traits before in only one other.

True Saber lifted his head upwards.  _ Is this the same pride that drove you away from us, Samael? _

True Saber returned his focus to the task at hand. He turned and looked at his remaining enemies. Berserker was standing with his Master off to the side. Archer was now struggling to his feet. 

“You… how the hell did you summon someone so powerful?” Berserker asked in bewilderment.

Uhlan, at the edge, had his hands clasped behind his back. He took a step or two forward. “Hm? Surely, Chiaki has told you who I am.”

Berserker glowered. “I know who you are. You’re the bastard that murdered her father and humiliated her.”

Uhlan averted his gaze for a moment. “Hm. And that is a night that has haunted me for how I... well, there is time for that later. No, what I am talking about is something so much more than that.”

Berserker arched an eyebrow. “...What?”

“My father…” Chiaki spoke, very quietly, seemingly to no one. “...told me that world leaders are more likely to compete in Holy Grail Wars than any other war.”

Uhlan gave a bow. “I am Lord Uhlan El-Melloi III Archibald. Heir to the House of El-Melloi, the successor of Kayneth Archibald, and the current Supreme Leader of the World.”

Uhlan looked off to the side a short moment before turning to look at Berserker again. “Or what's left of it, anyway. If you aren’t able to tell, Kayneth’s empire was and still is extremely unstable. The fact it's lasted this long is nothing short of a miracle. But I’ll rectify that once I win this Grail War.”

He turned to True Saber. “Saber, bring Berserker’s Master to me once you’ve finished them off,” Uhlan commanded.

True Saber nodded and turned towards Chiaki. He saw Berserker ready himself, but True Saber paid him no mind. He would not be much resistance. True Saber began to walk towards her, but he stopped when a sharp noise cut through the air. Sparks suddenly flew off the side of his helmet, catching his attention.

True Saber turned to see a sickly man with a cowboy hat leaning against a mostly-intact kitchen counter. In his hand, he held a pistol pointed directly at True Saber. He pulled the trigger several more times, with each bullet harmlessly reflecting off the silver armor that True Saber wore.

There it was again. This was the kind of person True Saber wanted to meet while he had been journeying around the world. This man had no way of defeating True Saber… and yet he tried anyway. He needed to observe more of him.

“Y’all better start runnin’...” the man in the cowboy hat growled.

He then threw his hand forward, like he was slapping the air. Suddenly, there was an explosion in a precise line that reached all the way to True Saber. It was pitifully weak, and had no effect on True Saber whatsoever.

“Saber, ignore him! He’s just distracting you!” Uhlan chastised.

True Saber turned his head in time for Lancer to strike him with his spear. It caught him on his shoulder. And though the armor blocked the damage, he did manage to cut into it, and the force of the strike blasted True Saber through the roof and several floors beneath that. He wasted no time flying back up.

Lancer was still covered in blood, but now all his tattoos were lit up.

Out of the corner of his sight, True Saber saw Archer dash over to the man in the cowboy hat. They disappeared into the air, leaving behind only a shimmer.

“If I might offer  _ you _ some council… don’t assume an enemy is dead just because you’ve pierced their heart!” Lancer shouted.

Before True Saber could make a move, Lancer jumped in front of him and threw out another strike. True Saber parried the blow and returned with a strike of his own that Lancer dodged.

The tattoos were strengthening him… but he was losing Mana from his pierced Spiritual Core very quickly. There was no way he could keep this up.

As if Lancer had heard his summary of the situation, he suddenly jumped back and into the air. He twirled his spear around and started to pour Mana into it.

_ His Noble Phantasm, _ True Saber put together.

True Saber looked down and saw a cloth of some kind. Perhaps it had been a window curtain, a tablecloth, or just the remains of a piece of clothing. Whatever it was, it was fabric, and that would mean that it suited his purposes.

True Saber picked the piece of cloth up and focused. His devotion and prayer became realized within the cloth, and it shined with a golden light that seemed to come from nowhere.

He looked up at Lancer just as he had finished channeling the Mana he needed into his spear.

“ _ GUNGNIR! _ ” Lancer cried, catapulting the spear at True Saber. As the spear arced through the sky at him, it flared with a beautiful dark blue light.

True Saber held out his Holy Shroud, directly into the path of Gungnir.

The explosion was massive, the blue light that had surrounded the spear now radiating out into a beautiful illumination of the town, as if the spear were the moon itself.

The explosion cleared. The Holy Shroud in True Saber’s hand was now in tatters, and mostly incinerated. True Saber was unharmed. The Holy Shroud had successfully defended him… but Lancer had destroyed it in turn. That spear had been more powerful than True Saber had expected.

True Saber looked and realized that it was only himself and Uhlan on the rooftop now. Lancer, Berserker, Archer, and all their respective Masters were nowhere to be seen.

“They’ve escaped,” Uhlan muttered, clearly irritated.

“The villainous ones have been defeated, with the exception of the Rogue Liar and the Daemonic Prince. Lancer has little time left. Archer’s Master the same. Both shall be gone before long, and that shall leave only Berserker to deal with,” True Saber replied.

Uhlan sighed. “Yes… I suppose you are right. At least Chiaki will be safe for the time being. We’ll retreat for now.”

True Saber bowed and faded back into his Spirit Form. From there, he watched Uhlan for a moment.

Uhlan stared out at the lightening sky for a moment or two, lost in thought. After a moment, he shook his head, and prepared to return to Mt. Ganz.


	19. Aftermath

It felt like years since Chiaki had come back to the apartment. The last time she was here, she had been preparing for her date with Archer. It felt like so long ago…

The layout was the same as she had left it. Amidst all the turmoil and chaos of this war, the apartment had remained unchanged.

Chiaki was just sitting on the couch, trying to make sense of everything that had happened. Magazines were scattered on the coffee table, some half open. Chiaki was a little confused at the lack of fashion magazines, but then remembered that Berserker had taken those up to her room in order to “help her” get ready.

Currently, Berserker was in the kitchen, making sandwiches. She wasn’t sure why. But he had been doing that since they got back. Not that Chiaki really cared. She had other things on her mind.

It didn’t seem real. The way that Uhlan just casually showed up out of nowhere. She should’ve known that he would know about the Holy Grail War going on. She was so blinded in her quest for… whatever it was she wanted… that she hadn’t even considered that she was basically advertising her current location to him by entering this war.

The moment she saw him again, it was like it was ‘that night’ all over again. She had trained with Berserker for so many nights… she had fought in so many battles… learned so much about herself and Berserker…

But she was still the exact same person she had started out as, unable to even muster up the proper amount of anger to avenge her father. That was until Berserker had touched her. It seemed like Berserker had noticed it as well at the time. The moment he placed a hand on her… She felt anger boil up inside her and spill out almost instantaneously. It surprised her. It felt… good. Right.

Berserker appeared in the room, holding two plates with sandwiches on them. “Chiaki… there’s something you need to know.”

Chiaki was taken out of her thoughts. She looked at Berserker. “What is it?”

“I think you’ve been cursed with a love spell.”

The abruptness of his statement caught Chiaki off guard. She furrowed her brow. “What? Why would you think that?”

Berserker took a few steps forward and placed the plates on the table. “You remember what the Ariadne Thread does?”

“Yeah, it shields anyone who touches it from mental alterations.”

“It was meant for madness… but a love curse would also be nullified by it’s presence.”

Chiaki looked at Berserker’s hand. “And you think Uhlan cast a love charm on me?”

“A love curse, yes.”

No. No way. Chiaki had known Uhlan nearly her whole life. They had met as kids. It was at that very first meeting, she remembered, that she fell in love with him. She had thought love at first sight was only just in stories… but she had been proven wrong that very day. The idea that that love was the result of magecraft or witchcraft or  _ whatever _ … it would’ve been nice and simple if it were true… but it wasn’t. There was no way.

Chiaki just looked away and shook her head.

Berserker kneeled down in front of her. “Chiaki.”

Chiaki didn’t look at him.

“I need you to say that you can kill Uhlan.”

Chiaki just shook her head again. “Why? What would it prove? I could say anything and not mean it.”

“You said last night that you would. Out of nowhere. And I  _ felt _ it. I saw it in your eyes and I heard it in your words. I felt your resolution to do so,” Berserker spoke.

_ Don’t remind me _ , Chiaki thought to herself. She stopped herself. Was she… ashamed of wanting to kill Uhlan?

“Chiaki… take my hand.”

She looked back at Berserker. He had his hand, the one covered in the Ariadne Thread, held out to her, palm up.

Chiaki reached out her hand… but it was slow. She felt like she was reaching into a bear trap. She knew what the truth was. She knew that Uhlan - him being alive, her own suffering because of that - was all her fault. It was her weakness and indecision that allowed Uhlan to walk out of that room alive. She knew that. But this Ariadne Thread threatened that idea.

What if… what if it  _ was _ a curse? Did that mean she never really loved Uhlan? Did that mean she never would’ve seen him as a friend, or even tried to get to know him? Would Uhlan… even have gotten close enough to hurt her otherwise?

Chiaki’s hand just barely touched Berserker’s fingertips.

Uhlan… his face… his smile… everything…

She hated it all. He was a vile, repulsive, disgusting waste of life that didn’t even deserve to be called human. And she was going to murder him for what he did to her and to her father.

Chiaki pulled her hand back as if she had touched a burner.

That was impossible. Then… it really was a lie. Her entire friendship with Uhlan, from the very beginning was all because of this curse.

She looked up at Berserker. Berserker studied her, his gaze piercing through her.

“I… I’m going to…” Chiaki began.

Berserker closed his eyes and stood up. “That bastard…”

Chiaki’s gaze faltered towards the floor. “He… he really…”

Berserker moved away from her, towards the kitchen, but he didn’t leave the room.

Chiaki shook her head. “How did I never figure it out? He was so talented with every Magecraft from an early age… he must’ve learned something early on… used it on me before I even realized he existed,” Chiaki reasoned out. 

It was more than just her friendship with Uhlan. She had had this curse on her for her whole life. She could be a completely different person than she thought she was. An angry, vengeful person, who hadn’t ever been let out.

The plate with the sandwich on it suddenly came into her view, snapping her out of her train of thought. She looked up and saw Berserker holding it out for her. “Then we finally know. You’ve had that determination to avenge your father inside you the whole time. It's… just been trapped.”

Chiaki slowly reached out and took the plate from Berserker. Berserker and her looked at one another.

“I’m not… free, either. Unless you have your hand on me, I won’t be able to act on it,” Chiaki lamented, looking down at her sandwich.

Berserker nodded. “Normally, I’d have no problem with a scenario like that, but in this case…” Berserker replied, rubbing his chin.

Chiaki just shook her head, and almost made the mistake of smiling. She knew better than to encourage that kind of talk with Berserker.

Despite that… she didn’t want to push him away. He had a lot of perverted tendencies, that was true, but he was also capable of real compassion. He was someone who could support her when she needed it, and relished in her happiness.

She was lucky to have a friend like him. And she didn’t want to leave him behind like she had left so many others. After she had completed her goal of avenging her father, it might be difficult for her to return to just having a normal, everyday life… but she felt she could do it, so long as she had Berserker with her.

“It's impractical at best. I just have to be within arm’s reach of you at all times,” Chiaki eventually said.

Berserker thought about it for a moment, and then shrugged. “There are worse solutions.”

Chiaki did smile this time. “So our big strategy is to do exactly what I said we should've been doing from the start?”

Berserker folded his arms. “Chiaki, you had no idea that it was  _ actually _ necessary for me to be within arms reach of you.”

“Or didn’t I? Maybe I’m just thinking  _ that far _ ahead.”

Berserker just smiled and closed his eyes, turning back into the kitchen.

“I’m going to miss you,” Berserker said wistfully.

Chiaki stopped. Everything. She stopped thinking, she stopped seeing, she even stopped breathing for a moment.

She had completely forgotten that Servants couldn’t exist normally outside the Holy Grail War. It hadn’t occurred to her that Berserker would be the one to leave  _ her _ behind.

Chiaki returned her attention to Berserker devouring his sandwich in two colossal bites.

She cleared her throat. “I… I’ve been thinking about that.”

Berserker arched an eyebrow at her as he swallowed. “About what?”

“You know… after the war.”

Berserker seemed to freeze up. He shook his head and sighed. He turned around. “You should eat and get some rest.”

“I’m not hungry right now.”

“You have to eat.”

“Then I’ll eat later.”

Berserker waited a moment. Then he turned, and moved to exit the room.

No. Chiaki wasn’t going to let this happen.

“Stop,” Chiaki commanded. She stood up, looking at him. “The Grail is full of almost infinite power. You can use it to incarnate yourself.”

“You already have a wish, Chiaki, don’t-”

“I’m talking about  _ you _ . You don’t have a wish for the Grail, right? Use your wish to-”

“I lied,” Berserker interrupted, turning and looking at her. “I… I’m sorry.”

Chiaki could feel her heart plummet. “What…?”

Berserker’s face twisted in pain for a moment. He closed his eyes and took another deep sigh, then he looked back at her. “Ariadne. She’s still out there, Chiaki, on the Reverse Side of the World. I have to find her. I need to ask for her forgiveness. Even if she won’t give it to me, I need to hear as much from her mouth.”

After a moment of hesitation, Berserker turned again, and moved to leave.

Chiaki’s face was hot. This… this wasn't how… she couldn't think properly. She didn't need to.

“So it ends, just like that? At the end, you’re just gonna say ‘see you’ and leave, so simply and easily?”

“It’ll be that simple. It won’t be that easy.”

Chiaki clenched her fist. She wanted to throw something at him. She ended up just shouting at him as she fought against tears. “You said you would be there for me! However I needed you to be!”

Berserker stopped and turned again. There was a look on his face. “That’s just it, Chiaki. You won’t need me. After Uhlan is defeated-”

Chiaki exploded. “Oh, shut up! Don’t talk like you’re somehow doing this for  _ my _ benefit. I  _ do _ need you, Berserker. And you’re running away, just like you ran away from Ariadne.”

Berserker’s eyes widened. The sad look on his face quickly became one of frustration. “Now wait just a moment-”

“No! Ariadne is _so_ damn important to you, is she? I can certainly tell, the way you flirt with literally _everything_ with two legs shows just how much you care about her. The truth is that you _never_ cared about Ariadne. You’re just taking whatever excuse you can so you can leave. You did it to her, and now you’re doing it to _m_ -”

Berserker suddenly threw his fist out, sideways, hammering it into the wall beside him. The wall crumbled like it was made of sand. Dust came from the ceiling and the new hole in Chiaki’s wall.

Berserker’s hand shook as he pulled it back to himself. His red eyes bored holes into Chiaki, and she reflexively stepped back.

“Don’t you…  _ ever _ …” Berserker growled. He gritted his teeth.

Chiaki could only look at him. She wasn’t angry. She wasn’t afraid. She wasn’t sure she could feel anything at the moment.

After a long, harrowing moment passed, Berserker shut his eyes and faded into Spirit Form.

Chiaki waited, looking at where he used to be. Why did she do that? She had just told herself all about how much she wanted to keep Berserker around… and then she decided to chase him off.

“I… I’m sorry,” Chiaki said, stepping towards where he used to be. She prayed that he could hear her.

“I… I didn’t mean…” Chiaki continued. There was no response. No indication he was even around anymore.

She slowly felt the power in her legs giving out, and she fell against the wall, looking at the hole he had made. Her bottom lip trembled, and her eyes fell to the ground.

She wrapped her arms around herself.

“Please come back…”

* * *

Tohsaka stepped in to her study. She sat down at her desk, staring forward.

She was alone. If the others planned to return to Old Einzbern Castle, as she had planned, then they had yet to make it back. Lancer was at least in communication with her, but he had locked himself in one of the other rooms, not too keen on sharing exactly why.

If what she had seen was true… that he had gotten pierced in his Spiritual Core… he’d be dead soon. She had lost.

With no idea where Remia and Archer were… with no idea where  _ anyone _ was, she became completely and utterly aware of how alone she was.

The Mage’s Association was collapsing. What was left of her family was scattered. There was nothing left for her.

She suddenly slammed her fists down onto the table, making a loud thud echo out into the empty room.

She was a fool. She was so reliant on her own abilities that she never once imagined what she would do with her life once she lost them. Perhaps she didn’t want to think about it. Nevertheless, she was here at the end, and she had no idea how to deal with it.

Rin had seen the signs. She never learned the family magecraft because she knew it would be worthless in a few years. That's why she took up Spiritron hacking instead… or at least that's how Sakura saw it now. Perhaps the truth was that she just made a decision that Sakura disagreed with.

And Sakura had rejected her because of it. She thought the legacy of their family was worth more than her own sister.

_ Master… if I might intrude on whatever it is you are doing. Please come join me. _

Sakura quickly wiped away the tears in her eyes before they truly had time to manifest and took a deep breath. She needed to be composed, at least for the time being. If nothing else, she would see off Lancer as the best representative of the Tohsaka family she could be.

She took a moment to place the nameless bow and her black archery sleeve back in their box. She stood up and straightened out her clothes. She took one more deep breath before turning and moving into the hallway.

_ I’ll be right there, Lancer. _

She moved quickly through the halls, desperately trying to shut out the hollow sounds of her footsteps against the carpet. Eventually, she found the room that Lancer was in.

She pushed it open, and was greeted by an unusual sight. Lancer was sitting, criss-cross, in the middle of a large, elaborate set of runes, set up in a spiral around him. They curved up and onto the walls and ceiling, encasing the entire room in glowing sigils. The room was dark otherwise.

“Please come in and shut the door,” Lancer requested. Sakura realized she was just standing in the doorway, gawking, so she did as he said.

“What… is all this?” Sakura asked, looking at the runes, and carefully trying to not step on any.

“My legacy, I suppose. It fills me with an odd pride to see my Runic Magecraft having survived into an era so far removed from my own, even if a lot of the particulars that made it so powerful in my time have been lost,” Lancer explained, closing his eyes. 

Sakura’s observation of the array of runes led her to realize that there was a small break in the formation. There was a circle that cut through the spiral, one that was only apparent because it was made visible by a  _ lack _ of runes, rather than being comprised of them.

“The only eye that can see the present is the physical eye. The only eye that can see the past is experience. And the only eye that can see the future is wisdom. What I’m about to do will violate the natural law of the Holy Grail War. I may not even succeed… but it is our last chance at victory.”

Sakura looked at Lancer, who had now folded his hands into his lap, like he was meditating. He opened his eyes and looked at Sakura. “I recommend fleeing this place, at least for as long as it takes for me to perform this ritual. But before you do…”

Lancer pointed at the empty space of runes, the one that created the circle around him. “...I need you to draw a Summoning Circle around me.”

* * *

Remia was watching the sun rise when Archer came back to him. He had propped himself up on the breaker box of the building they stood on. Archer had wrapped him in the Bloody Cloak. It couldn’t heal him, but it eased his pain.

“The area is secure. Assassin and True Saber are nowhere to be found.”

Remia nodded lightly. “What… what about those people affected by Rider?”

Archer hesitated. “Dead. Even the ones in my Spirit World.”

Remia nodded again. “Figures. Spent too much time worryin’ about people who were already dead.”

“You did not know they would already be dead.”

“Yeah, I did. Somewhere deep down. Just couldn’t accept it.”

“That is not a bad thing.”

Remia gave a shrug without looking at Archer. “Well, didn’t do me any favors for the past thirty-somethin’ years. Just was a good way to depress the hell outta me every time I failed. I didn’t even succeed in beatin’ that Robin Hood asshole.”

Archer sighed. He moved and sat down next to Remia. They sat in silence for a while.

“Hey, Archer…” Remia said.

“Yes?”

“You wanna know somethin’ funny?”

“Very well.”

“I was gonna kill myself after this war.”

Archer took a moment to process the information.

“That is not funny.”

“No, it ain’t. It's just… I got kinda annoyed when Berserker came to me and asked that I look after Chiaki for a while after the war… ‘cause that meant I couldn’t just be done, y’know? But then…”

Remia took off his hat and placed it on his knee. “I kinda started to look forward to it. And now I’m dyin’. And I… I’m really disappointed that I won’t get to...” He looked down at his lap, a sullen expression taking over his face. “Funny how life works out like that.”

Remia reached to his side and took out his pistol, holding it by its barrel. He held it out to Archer to take. “I don’t ‘spose you could make a delivery for me?”

Archer waited a moment before taking the pistol. “To whom should I deliver it to?”

“Chiaki, o’ course. She’s the only one who knows how to use the Detonation, now. The only bullets left are the ones left in the gun, though. She’ll have to learn how to make more on her own.”

Archer nodded. “Then I shall see to it that she gets it.”

Remia reached out and grabbed his hat, returning it to his head. “Well… I guess it’s time I moseyed on…”

Remia reached up to remove the Bloody Cloak, but Archer stopped him. “Johnny Remia. Do you know why I called this cloak my home?”

Remia arched an eyebrow at him. “No.”

“I died in this cloak. It is my blood that stains it. At the end of my life, it was my only possession. It was my home.”

Remia looked down at it. “Well, that's a ‘lil morbid.”

Archer gave a melancholic smile. “Johnny, you are my family. Everything I own is yours. It would… it would be my honor if you were to call this cloak your home as well.”

Remia looked up at Archer again. He smiled, but Archer could see it was only to hide his sadness. He opened his mouth to say something, but no words came. He looked out over the sunrise. “Thank you,” was all he said.

Archer turned to look at the sun as well. He could feel it coming. Remia was beginning to slip away. His breathing became labored.

“Man… what a pathetic… double act we made…”

“...Indeed.”

Remia took a few more grasping breaths, each one taking longer than the last, but more shallow.

Eventually, he let his head dip down, and he died.

Archer waited for a while before turning to look at Remia. Remia’s eyes were still open, gazing down at his feet, now. Archer reached over and closed them.

“Goodbye, Johnny Remia. May your memory guide me as you say mine has guided you.”

Archer stood up.

“I appreciate you being quiet for the time being,” Archer said, looking over his shoulder at Saber, Travick and Trussa.

“We… did not mean to intrude,” Trussa explained. She was breathing heavily. She was sick, it appeared.

Archer nodded. “I appreciate your consideration. Have you business with me?”

Trussa went to speak but began to cough. Travick patted her on the back a few times.

“None. I take it, with the Independent Action skill that the Archer class wields, you still consider yourself in the running for the Holy Grail?” Travick spoke for Trussa.

Archer thought for a moment. “No. I have been bested. The time I have left shall be dedicated to burying and honoring the dead.”

Travick nodded. He motioned for Trussa and Saber to join him as he left, supposedly back towards their own home base.

Trussa joined him. Saber did not. Saber was just staring at Remia’s body. There was a look in his eye. A look Archer, in the few times he had met Saber over the war, had never seen him have.

Saber faced Archer, giving him that same look. “I’ll do it.”

He then turned and followed Trussa and Travick away.

Archer said nothing and let them leave. He wondered, only for a moment, what kind of conversation Saber had been having inside his head as he stared at Remia… but he decided to leave it be.

He had a burial to prepare, and a gift to deliver.

* * *

Assassin sat in his cave, sharpening his knife. The knife didn’t actually need to be sharpened, and in fact trying to do so only resulted in rocks being scraped to dust, but it helped him think.

His Master was being quiet in the corner, thankfully. She hadn’t caused him much trouble over the war, for which he was thankful. He’d let her live for her trouble. Although… considering what he had planned, maybe it was more merciful to kill her.

_ We’ll see how I’m feeling when the time comes _ , Assassin decided in his head.

He didn’t react as Uhlan and True Saber walked into the cave. “Ah. I see you succeeded in retrieving the body,” Uhlan narrated as he looked at the corpse Assassin had lying next to him.

Assassin glanced at Hitler’s body. The gemcraft arrow was still lodged in his forehead. It was quick, nearly painless. Professional. Tohsaka had surprised him with that. She would’ve made a pretty good partner, should he ever have the mind to get one…

“It was too good a death for him,” Uhlan decided, standing over him. “You have no idea how it killed me inside to invite him to the war, rather than just kill him outright.”

Assassin gave no reply, continuing to sharpen his knife.

“We should begin soon. The Mana inside his body will begin to leak out before long. Saber, begin the preparations,” Uhlan commanded, walking further into the cave. True Saber bowed.

“Where is the False Saber?” True Saber asked Assassin.

Assassin never looked at True Saber. He didn’t like talking to him. He didn't like his voice. Assassin wasn’t afraid of him… but he also wasn’t stupid. He knew that True Saber was infinitely more powerful than him, and would kill him without a second thought should he know what he was up to.

“On his way,” Assassin said simply.

True Saber nodded and grabbed Hitler’s corpse.


	20. Son of the Devil

Three years before the Final Holy Grail War, Trussa Loyuffon and Travick Dormir sat in a meeting room within their estate.

Trussa looked down at the old, rusted set of chains on the table. Travick stayed close to her side, eyeing them as well. It wasn’t his place to interfere with the young mistress’s decision… but he also didn’t want this man to manipulate her.

Even if he was the Supreme Leader of the world.

Uhlan Archibald, the Head of the Mage’s Association, sat comfortably in the chair opposite of Trussa.

Trussa closed her eyes and seemed to be thinking about Archibald’s proposition. It was a very tempting offer. Not everyone had the opportunity to attend the Holy Grail War, after all. Still, Travick knew it was wise to think on it before outright accepting, especially considering that Archibald seemingly had nothing to gain by inviting them.

Travick leaned down and whispered in Trussa’s ear. “Would it be helpful to have some time to think about this decision, young mistress?” Travick asked.

Trussa thought for a few moments more before opening her eyes. “Yes, I think so,” she replied. Then, she addressed Archibald. “Please do not misunderstand. I appreciate your offer, and I shall give you your answer tomorrow, but I think a good night’s rest shall be good for my deliberation.”

Archibald smiled amiably. “Of course, I understand completely. Truth be told, I did not expect an answer even tomorrow. I shall await eagerly, even should your answer be delayed beyond then,” he smiled, standing. Travick moved and grabbed the chains carefully, handling them with the same delicacy Archibald’s men had handled them with.

However, Archibald raised his hand, stopping Travick. “You need not return that to me, Mr. Dormir. Consider it a gift, separate from your decision.”

Travick carefully placed the chains on the table. He was unsure why a relic to be used for summoning a Heroic Spirit would be considered a gift should they refuse his offer, but Travick stayed silent. “Very well then. Shall I show you out?”

Archibald nodded, and the two left for the door, with Archibald’s men surrounding them as they moved down the hallways. “I have to admit, Ms. Loyuffon carries herself well for such a young head of family. You’ve taught her well,” Archibald commended.

Travick did not look at him. “Thank you. I do not deserve such praise.”

“I understand the connection that a girl has with their father… it must have been hard for her,” he continued.

Travick hesitated before replying. “Yes… we appreciate your concern, Lord Archibald.”

They made it to the doors. “You know, the Grail is capable of many things… the resurrection of her parents is not impossible with its power.”

Travick kept his cool, but could not prevent his heart rate from increasing. The very concept was something Travick had thought of the moment he had mentioned the Holy Grail War. He had thought the last war, the one that Kayneth Archibald had won, would be the last. He thought it was impossible.

And then Uhlan Archibald, his son, showed up and said otherwise.

“A good observation. I’ll mention that to her when I return to her,” Travick replied, bowing to him slightly.

Archibald smiled, bowing. He turned and his men opened the door for him. Travick waited for him to leave and close the door behind him, but Archibald stopped in the doorway, turning around.

“I should’ve mentioned before, Mr. Dormir... the servant that you’ll summon with that relic is very powerful, but entirely untrustworthy. He has the propensity to harm those around him because of his… personality, we’ll say. If you summon him, I have no doubt that you’ll make it far in the war. But be sure to keep an eye on him. You never know when he’ll turn on you,” Archibald warned.

Travick nodded. “We appreciate the warning, Lord Archibald.”

Archibald bid his farewell and closed the door. Travick locked it behind him.

As he turned on his heel and went back to meet with Trussa, he weighed the options in his mind. On one hand, they had a high-chance of success with the servant given to them by Archibald… on the other hand, they would be put in danger. To proceed was to risk their lives, but guarantee the wish from the Holy Grail.

It wasn’t even a contest. Not to Travick.

* * *

Trussa was taking deep breaths. Her condition had been getting considerably worse. It seemed to show up somewhere after Rider attacked, and before they moved to assist at the battle at the tower.

Saber wasn’t sure exactly when it had showed up. But he knew where it had come from.

He watched with pity as Travick administered some medicine to Trussa in her bed. “Of all the worst times to pick up a disease like this…” Travick sighed. Saber had to agree. It was all too convenient.

Even disregarding the fact that this sickness had interrupted Travick’s search for a new base of operations, the fact that she was no longer in a fighting condition - and the fact that Travick hardly ever left her side to begin with - meant that Saber had to pick up the slack.

After seeing Remia, he had little issue with that. He had thought a little more about his resolution to become a good king instead of an evil one. What Remia’s death made him realize… it solidified that idea in his mind.

“I’ll go out on patrol. Trussa will recover soon, you’ll see,” Saber said.

Travick looked at him. He only grunted and returned to his tending of Trussa.

“Saber…” Trussa spoke weakly, “Do be careful. If you encounter another Servant… do not fight, just return here.”

She was paler than she had ever been. She didn’t have much time, he could tell.

Saber nodded and turned towards the door.

_ Sorry, Trussa. That’s not an option this time, _ he thought to himself.

His suspicion began and was confirmed the moment he had seen Remia. The struggle to breathe, the discoloration of skin… it was too similar to Trussa. She had been poisoned. At some point, someway, somehow, Assassin had snuck past them and poisoned her, just as he had poisoned Remia.

Saber gripped the handle of his sword. He was going to make that bastard pay for trying to kill his Master. His Mana Burst coated him in shadows, and he rocketed off through the streets, headed towards Mt. Ganz.

He had many thoughts on his way. His heart was hammering. There was very little chance at success… but to challenge the impossible and make it possible… that was the duty of a Hero, and while he was a King, there was enough of an overlap for it to make sense in his head.

Saber found himself at the foot of the cave in no time at all. He had wished that the trip had taken longer, quite honestly. He was enjoying the satisfaction of doing something heroic without actually having to go through all the effort and near-death stuff of actually doing something heroic.

Saber found it difficult to move his legs forward into the cave. He gritted his teeth and punched his legs. “Move, damn you! I am Zahhak, your lord and master! You shall not disobey me in my time of need!” he commanded.

They continued to disobey him in his time of need.

Saber drew his sword. “I will cut you off if you don’t move!” he threatened.

...his own legs. Saber slowly sheathed his blade and hoped he hadn’t been speaking loudly enough for anyone to hear.

Saber reached down and picked up his legs, moving them forward one by one. Eventually, his legs seemed to loosen up just a little, and he was able to take tiny steps into the mouth of the cave.

He didn’t like caves. He didn’t like dark places in general… but he especially didn't like caves. He had died in a cave, he remembered. After that rebel leader - what was his name… Fairiedon, or something - had overthrown his kingdom, he had locked him up underneath a mountain, bound in chains.

He didn’t remember much of the experience… but it was the last thing he remembered before being reawoken inside the Throne of Heroes before being summoned. It was… disconcerting, to say the least.

Saber’s trek inside stopped quickly. He heard a voice. No… not a voice. It was the sound of weeping. Saber squinted in the dark, looking to find the source of it.

There was a person, tied up, off to the side of the cave. Saber moved over to them. They recoiled away from him as they saw him approach. As he got closer, he saw that it was a woman.

“No, no, it’s okay. I’m here to help you… somehow. I guess we’ll start with those bonds,” Saber spoke. He knelt down and reached to undo the ties on her hands and feet, but she pulled away from him.

“No, really, it’s alright. I’m the good guy, here,” Saber said, reaching again for the bonds. She pulled away once more, making some kind of noise at him.

It didn’t sound like she was gagged… so why wasn’t she speaking? Maybe she spoke a different language…

“What’s wrong with you? Don’t you want to be saved?” Saber asked, looking down at her.

“No, she just knows better than to try her luck with you,” Assassin explained, stepping into the cave, carrying a bag of… something. Saber didn't want to guess.

Saber immediately stood up and reached for his sword, fumbling with it a bit before drawing it.

“So you came. And you’re still pretending to be something you’re not.”

Saber stood his ground. “N-no… I’ve finally realized who I r-really am… I’m the hero.”

Assassin threw his head back and laughed. “You’ve grown even  _ more _ disillusioned with yourself.”

Saber took steps back as Assassin stepped forward, and the back of Saber’s feet bumped into the woman sitting behind him.

“A-alright… maybe I’m not  _ the _ hero… but I’m d-definitely not bad enough…” Saber began.

He swallowed the spittle in his mouth and took a deep breath. He closed his eyes, and remembered Remia’s death. He remembered what would happen to Trussa if he didn’t stop Assassin.

He opened his eyes again. “I’m not bad enough to sit by and watch you torture my subjects. So I suggest you kneel and devote yourself to me, and assist in my taking over the world, or I’ll cut you until you resemble a bloody pile of meat… that gets cut… a lot.”

Assassin folded his arms. “Okay.”

“How foolish! To not ally yourself with the most powerf-”

Saber stopped. He dropped his stance. “Wait, what?”

Assassin nodded. “I said okay. You think I had any intention other than helping you? I could’ve killed you several times over already. I haven’t even turned invisible yet. You are Zahhak, the one destined to become Azi Dehaka, the Son of Angra Mainyu. You want to plunge the world into darkness. I want to help.”

Saber was speechless. His natural charisma had seemed to be lacking in this new era, and yet he had somehow won over Assassin, of all people? Well, it only made sense. He  _ did _ spot him in that park near the beginning of the war, after all. Such a display of Saber’s power would’ve won  _ anyone _ over.

Saber shook his head. “Sorry, I’ve turned over a new leaf. I seek redemption as the  _ saviour _ of the world, not its destroyer.”

Assassin looked down and shook his head. “And there's that delusion again… this idea that you’re the hero.”

Saber tightened his grip on his sword. “You keep talking like you know who I am… and you’ve certainly said my name. If you know that I am the most powerful man in the world, then you should also know that I have the power to choose my  _ own _ destiny! And the destiny I’ve chosen is one as a benevolent ruler.”

Assassin looked up at him. “And that's where you’re wrong, Zahhak. You are not the most powerful man in the world. You have no claim to rule. You have no power to throw the world into darkness, nor save it.”

Saber just stared for a moment. “What? You just said-”

“That I wanted to help you plunge the world into darkness, yes. But now you come in here talking like you’re a hero… but Zahhak, you’re neither the saviour, nor are you the destroyer.”

Assassin started walking forward very calmly. Saber pointed his sword straight at him.

“You are a sad, powerless, and ultimately delusional man who had an entire entourage of followers catering to his ego so that you could pretend to be important.”

Saber realized he was stepping back. Why was he stepping back? He was the one with the sword. Saber clenched his blade tight and got ready to swing. But he knew Assassin would likely dodge it… and if he didn’t, his leather clothing could block Saber’s attack.

“You were the perfect little idiot they needed as a figurehead so they could control the nation from the shadows, and you got to lie to yourself and to the whole world about how  _ you _ were this big, bad, demon king.”

Saber found his back to the wall. He could dash away, and escape. But then maybe Assassin would pull out his crossbow. He needed to be smart. He needed to find a weakness.

Maybe the inside of his hood? Just because he couldn’t see Assassin’s face didn't mean that it couldn’t be stabbed.

“I can give you the opportunity to actually  _ become _ the son of the devil you like to pretend to be.”

Saber smirked. It was worth a shot. “Like I’d ever help someone who poisoned my Master!” Saber lunged forward, stabbing at the shadowy visage of Assassin.

Assassin batted the sword away easily. He pushed forward, pinning Saber to the wall with his forearm. His other hand reached out and grabbed the hand that Saber had his sword in, and pinned to the wall as well.

“Just how many lies have you told yourself? Your Master is dying because of your Noble Phantasm. I had assumed you would’ve known that.”

Saber grunted and fought against Assassin’s strength. They weren’t that different in terms of raw power… Saber could weasel his way out of this pin yet.

“I don’t…  _ have _ … a Noble Phantasm,” Saber replied through gritted teeth. Just a little more.

Assassin tilted his head. “Don’t be ridiculous. I can see you using your Noble Phantasm on me right now, clear as day. Daeva Avesta.”

Saber gave a mighty push, and Assassin let him go, but he stepped to the side and held on to Saber’s sword and twisted it, flipping Saber onto the ground behind him. Assassin now held Saber’s sword in his hand, and he looked at it, up and down. “I see… this isn’t your sword, is it? Someone else gave it to you.”

Assassin turned his head and studied Saber as he struggled to his feet. Or that's what Saber assumed he was doing. Again, he couldn’t see his face through that hood.

“You really don’t know what your Noble Phantasm is,” Assassin stated matter-of-factly, “I never thought it was possible for someone to be unaware of an ability they had. Even when I gained True Name Discernment skill as a Servant, that was made obvious to me. Though that may simply be because identifying people’s Noble Phantasms is an extrapolation of the actual abilities I had in life. But I suppose I’ve seen a lot of things in this war that I thought were impossible... “

Saber furrowed his brow, straightening himself. “W-what? What are you talking about?”

Assassin sighed. “I can see your Noble Phantasm. I have the True Name Discernment skill at a low rank… but it's enough to see a Noble Phantasm’s True Name as long as it's active. As I’ve gathered,  _ your _ Noble Phantasm, Daeva Avesta, drains mana from those around you, and in fact…” Assassin moved his head slightly. “Ah…”

Assassin leaned back against the wall behind him, flipping Saber’s sword as if it were his knife. Saber needed to get it back somehow…

“Its effects increase on those who take you as their King. The ultimate representation of your right to rule over the world. You take the power of those that belong to you in order to fuel yourself.”

Assassin turned his head towards the cave entrance. “But that girl didn’t have a whole lot of Mana in the first place, now did she? She’s been trained to use it well, but that doesn’t change the fact that you completely drained her dry and are now sucking away at her life force with your very presence.”

Saber lunged forward, now that he was distracted. “Liar!”

Assassin stepped out of the way and let him crash into the wall. “Pitiful. I guess you don’t understand yet. I think you will, once you return home and see that I’m right.”

Saber swathed himself in shadows and took off, straight into Assassin. The two slammed into the far wall, and Assassin dropped the sword. Saber snatched it up and attacked Assassin again.

Assassin dived and rolled off to the side, crouching near where the woman had been tied up. Saber stopped and re-aimed himself directly at them. He’d try for Assassin’s face again. Assassin had purposefully dodged his first strike at his face, which meant it must’ve been able to hurt him. Saber had a way to win!

Saber charged forward, dead set on his target. Assassin watched him come.

Suddenly, there was a woman in his way. The woman Assassin had tied up. Saber stopped in his tracks. Her eyes were frightened, and tearful. Saber looked down and saw his blade stuck right through her. He hadn’t stopped in time.

He looked back up at her and saw Assassin’s hands, holding her in the way. He had used her as a shield.

Saber was afraid to do anything… he just let go of the sword and stepped back. He couldn’t believe what he had just done. He came here to… save someone… or was it to kill someone? Regardless… he could do neither.

Assassin slowly set her down on the ground again. “Hmm… it looks like you move faster than your eyes can see.”

Assassin stood up. “I think it's time you left. Who knows who else might get hurt if you stayed here and continued to try to ‘save’ people.”

He was out of his league. He wasn’t ready to be doing something like this. He needed help.

Saber turned around and bolted out the cave entrance. A blinding light caused him to stumble, and fall down the slope leading up to the cave. He was too panicked to really care. He righted himself and blinked past the glare of the sun. He took off, hoping to be going in the right direction.

* * *

It was midmorning by the time Saber managed to find his way back to the estate. It was still mostly destroyed, and it didn’t seem like Travick had put up one of those “Bounded Fields” he had been talking about earlier.

Saber entered what used to be the foyer. He spotted Travick standing at the top of the stairs.

“Travick! Thank  _ me _ you’re here. I need to-”

“I wouldn’t take a single step further, Saber,” Travick warned.

Saber stopped dead in his tracks. “What? Are you still trying to get rid of me? Trussa wouldn’t-”

“Did you think I wouldn’t find out?” Travick interrupted, reaching up for his monocle.

Unlike every other time Travick had adjusted his monocle, Saber was now completely aware of the power that was being contained behind it. Saber instinctively held out his hands and started stepping back.

“Now hold on, you know that those destroyer beams don’t work on me, I’m far too powerful,” Saber quickly said.

Travick closed his Mystic Eye and removed his monocle. “You know that I’ve never tried to hit you with them. I don’t know if they’re powerful enough to kill you, but they were enough to destroy Rider’s human body, they should be powerful enough for you.”

Saber tried to find a piece of rubble to hide behind. “What… What is this all about? I have urgent things I need to discuss with Trussa, I can’t be-”

“ _ You have no right to say Trussa’s name! _ ” Travick shouted.

Saber halted his movement entirely. All it took was one involuntary twitch on Travick’s behalf, and Saber was dust. Or at least in a lot of pain.

“I ask again. Did you think I wouldn’t find out? You remember what I said about modifying your Saint Graph? The moment you revealed a Noble Phantasm, all details would be available to me via my Master’s eye. I don’t know how you managed to keep a Noble Phantasm like  _ that _ hidden from me all this time… but it seems it's finally been unveiled,” Travick explained. “Daeva Avesta.”

Saber couldn’t believe it. Assassin wasn’t lying. His Noble Phantasm… was Daeva Avesta?

“I… I didn’t even know it… existed. I never wanted to hurt Tr-”

“ _ Don’t _ … say… her name. I have only ever wanted her happiness. Even when I put her in danger by involving her in this war, she forgave me. That's not something common in this world. So when I see her lying in a half-broken bed, sick and dying, and  _ none _ of my medicine or magecraft is working… you cannot  _ possibly _ understand what that feels like. I failed her once. I shall never do so again,” Travick continued, rolling up his sleeve, making Saber wince.

Saber looked around. There was nothing around him that he could hide behind… though now that he thought of it, Travick’s beams of destruction could just bend around any obstacle… perhaps hiding was pointless.

He started talking and walking backwards, but found himself tripping over various rocks and pieces of rubble. “You can’t possibly think I’ve done this on purpose you know how much of an idiot I am I can’t even hold my sword straight I just tried to fight Assassin and I think I killed a girl because of how incompetent I am please-”

“ _ SHUT YOUR FILTHY MOUTH _ !” Travick screamed, opening his Mystic Eye. The streams of destructive energy burst out and flew forward.

Saber covered himself with his Mana Burst and dashed around, desperately trying to avoid the beams.

He wasn’t fast enough. One hit its mark, and a flash of pain ran through Saber as he was sent flying into one of the barely standing walls, which crumbled shortly thereafter.

Saber struggled to get up, pushing rubble off himself frantically. He needed to run away and…

And what? Go where? Where was there left for him?

Saber found himself on his knees, looking up at Travick, who had his Mystic Eye closed once again.

Travick lifted his arm, showing off his Command Seal. “I can’t expect you to have tried to hurt her on purpose, no. However, I  _ can _ expect you to have forgotten such an important detail about your  _ own _ Noble Phantasm, and nearly kill her because of your ineptitude! I should use this Command Seal to make you commit suicide right now!”

Saber just looked at him and waited. His voice was caught in his throat.

“But Trussa wanted you to live,” Travick continued, “I still have no idea why. You have no power to help achieve my desire, or Trussa’s desires, and the only power you  _ do _ have is only harmful to those around you. You are lazy, cowardly, and above all  _ weak _ . And our lives would have been better off without you. You shall never harm my Mistress ever again. By order of Command Seal, you will, for the remainder of your time in this reality, never come within five kilometers of Trussa Loyuffon,” Travick ordered.

The red command flashed, and Saber felt compelled to stand and walk away. It was a strange feeling. He knew that if he left this compound, he would have nothing, and no one. And any hope of winning the Grail War would be completely ruined, never mind taking over the world.

What could he do? His legs didn’t listen to him. He commanded nothing.  _ He _ was nothing. Not without Trussa. Just a fool in a cape pretending to be something he’s not.

He had felt this feeling before. He was dying. He remembered… from back then.

When his kingdom had been overthrown and he had been exiled, he tried to return and reclaim it from Fereydun. But he was too weak then, too. And Fereydun, at the advice of the same viziers and wise men who had advised Zahhak his entire rule, tied him up and dragged him towards that dark mountain.

He had cried out for help. For someone to try and save him. He remembered the looks on the people’s faces. They hated him. They were disgusted by him. They spat on him and threw refuse at him as he was carried through the town. His death was cause for celebration.

Fereydun bound him in chains beneath the mountain. The chains cut into him. The more he flailed to escape, the more they seemed to hurt him. Eventually, he stopped fighting. He knew no one would come… but he cried for help anyway. He remembered growing hungry. Then growing thirsty. And then growing tired.

And the next thing he knew… he was being summoned into a new world. One that had bright lights and sounds, and beer, and… and Trussa. A girl too innocent to realize what a disease he was.

Saber had stopped walking. He turned, and looked back. The estate was gone from his sight. He must’ve been far enough away.

He turned back to face forward. He was now standing in the middle of the street. Ordinary people had begun to walk around him, paying him no mind. It was like he didn’t even exist.

He looked down at his hands. “Why… was I summoned? What purpose did the Grail think I have?”

There was a voice beside him. It came from the air itself. “People tend to not handle the truth very well,” Assassin spoke. “Take Masters for instance. They enter this war, summoning their Heroic Spirits expecting some… legend. And instead they get the reality. Then they act like it's  _ our _ fault that stories got made up about us.”

Saber said nothing. A car passed him and honked at him for his inactivity.

“They wanted you because of the power you allegedly had. The son of the devil… it's an intimidating name, isn’t it? But you get so caught up in the grandeur of it that you forget that the devil never had a son.”

Saber still said nothing. There were not very many people on the street at this point… only trash was around him now.

“You’re just a rich prick who was given everything in his life, used by those smarter than you, and then blamed for all the woes of the nation you weren’t even in charge of. You’re not a hero. You’re not a monster. You’re just a nobody with a fancy name.”

Saber felt Assassin’s hand creep onto his shoulder. “What I’m offering you is the opportunity to actually  _ be _ someone. To be the destined dark beast, Azi Dehaka. I can give you that. The power to cast the world into darkness. All I ask is that you let the coming world know  _ exactly _ who it was that helped you do it.”

Saber turned his head, slowly towards Assassin. “Only the Grail could do something like that.”

Assassin nodded. “It's not the Grail itself, but what's  _ in _ the Grail… or rather,  _ whose _ in the Grail.”

Saber waited. He… didn't know what he wanted anymore. He supposed that there was nothing he  _ could _ want besides what he had always wanted. What he was willing to use Trussa and Travick to get.

He wanted to be the ruler of the world.

He narrowed his eyes at Assassin. “...then tell me. Who is in the Grail?”

Assassin slid his hand off Saber’s shoulder and turned, moving back towards Mt. Ganz. “The devil himself.”


	21. Wisdom of Rage

Berserker sat, looking up at the stars as they slowly faded away under the burgeoning rays of the dawning sun.

He was on top of a warehouse in a poorer part of town. It was farther away from the apartment than he would’ve liked… but he could get back quickly. Chiaki could use a Command Seal and teleport him there if need be.

When he turned his head one way, he saw Saggittarrius, eternally pointing it’s bow at Scorpio.

When he turned his head the other way, he saw the constellation Hercules poking over the horizon. The largest constellation, naturally.

“Show off…” he grumbled, looking back to the sky directly above him.

He knew he shouldn’t have left. He needed to go back to Chiaki. She had every right to be angry, and he should've kept his cool.

_ There is nothing wrong with being impassioned. But learn the difference between passion and madness _ , he heard Chiron speak to him.

“Yeah, yeah, just leave me alone already.”

Chiron had always challenged the things Theseus said. Sometimes he could explain himself. Sometimes he couldn’t. Never had he done either without getting angry.

Berserker held his hand up, looking at the Ariadne Thread. The only reason he could understand what was happening in this war was because of this thread. The only reason he cared about Chiaki at all was because he was sane enough to do so.

It was a funny thought. It was the String that allowed him to cherish Chiaki, and it was with Chiaki that he’d be able to return to Ariadne. So is it that Chiaki will give him Ariadne… or was it Ariadne who gave him Chiaki?

He retracted his hand, laying it on his chest.

The stars had entirely disappeared by now, being replaced with the early morning sky. There was no reason to stay here. There was never a reason to be here in the first place.

Berserker went to stand up, and was shocked to see Lancer standing over him, fully armored and brandishing his spear.

Immediately, he was on his feet, having rolled backwards to stand up quickly.

“Those runes of yours are getting annoying…” Berserker growled.

Now that he had a better look at him, Berserker realized that Lancer had a strap of black cloth wrapped around one of his eyes. There was something different about him. His aura was different, but Berserker wasn’t sure what exactly it was.

“I’ve come to end this,” Lancer stated.

Berserker scoffed. “Right. And what ‘wisdom’ led you to the idea that fighting amongst ourselves right after that new Servant has appeared was a good idea?”

“I looked into the future. I saw how all events will proceed from here. I know where True Saber and his Master are. I know how to defeat them. And in order for the Grail to manifest...” Lancer explained. He twirled his spear and got into a fighting pose. “All but one Servant must be eliminated. You are no longer needed.”

Berserker kept his face steady as stone. He crossed his arms. “No longer needed, huh? Yeah, I’ve been thinking about that myself. Defeating gods and monsters to protect humanity is the only way a ‘hero’ like me can save anyone. But gods and monsters don’t exactly walk the Earth anymore. So what's the point of a hero who can’t save anyone?” Berserker posited, looking down.

He looked back up at Lancer. “I don’t think beings like us can live in this world. Not for long. But…”

Berserker unfolded his arms and got into a fighting pose. “If you think for a single instant that I’ll simply die and let my Master’s wish go ungranted, you’re sorely mistaken.”

Lancer said nothing, and betrayed no emotion on his face. Berserker smirked. He was finally getting it. “So…  _ you’re _ Elder God Odin. You’ve got the same look in your eye that Athena did on that day. You can’t even comprehend what I’m saying, can you?”

Lancer was as still as a statue. Berserker nodded. “I thought so. You can’t understand why I’m still fighting. After all,  _ you _ can defeat True Saber and save the world, right? You can’t understand what it is to be a mortal. You lack pride, you lack affection, you lack weakness… that failure to understand is what you god's call ‘wisdom’. I suppose there  _ is _ one thing I can still do in this world, then,” Berserker spoke, getting lower in his fighting stance and rooting himself into the ground.

“I’ll do what I should’ve done back then and defeat the God of Wisdom, once and for all.”

Lancer’s eyes narrowed.

They both charged forward at once.

* * *

Lancer’s first strike was parried by Berserker. He deflected it off to the side, letting it stab into his forearm. Berserker immediately responded by throwing out several quick jabs with his other hand, which Lancer slipped past the best he could.

Lancer warded him off with a kick, but Berserker easily stepped back, letting it hit air. It appeared that Berserker had gotten better at reading Lancer’s movements. That might be an issue.

Lancer switched up his stance to a more defensive style. He’d let Berserker come to him, then.

Much to his surprise, Berserker was also waiting. He had changed his stance from the pankration one to a modern day outboxer style.

It looked like they both had been preparing for this. Normally, Lancer’s speed would allow him to just dodge past Berserker’s range and use hit-and-run tactics. But Berserker had been getting good at predicting where Lancer would be coming from in their previous encounters, which meant that he could probably actually keep Lancer away with those jabs.

Lancer stood his ground, keeping a close watch of Berserker. Berserker would still have to come forward if he wanted to land any hits… and that's when Lancer would catch him. All he had to do was bait his attacks out.

Lancer stepped forward and immediately backwards again, readying to slice his spear out at Berserker’s outstretched hand. But Berserker’s hand didn’t come. He wasn’t biting. It was like Lancer was fighting a completely different Servant than the one he had faced back on the coast.

Lancer swore inside his head. He was running out of time. He needed to hurry this along. There was no way he could avoid taking hits here, regrettably.

Swallowing his regret, Lancer moved forward, intent on striking at Berserker’s heart.

Berserker’s fist was suddenly rushing directly at Lancer’s face. Lancer couldn’t dodge in time, and he found himself being pushed back. Lancer was stunned for a moment. It was like Berserker’s arm had gotten longer somehow.

No… he was just dashing in at the same time Lancer was, slipping past the tip of Lancer’s spear to strike, and then returning to his original place, all in an instant. Berserker’s footwork told the whole story.

Lancer straightened himself out and got back into his defensive pose. He needed to watch Berserker’s movements more carefully. Lancer pushed forward, keeping an eye on Berserker’s fist as he let it loose. Lancer managed to block the strike, immediately pushing forward afterward, trying to get his attack in.

Berserker stepped back, and Lancer‘s world suddenly shook violently, confusing him greatly. When Lancer had regained his composure, Berserker was drawing his fists back.

Berserker had hit him with a combination while backing away from his attack? Lancer was truly impressed. It was clear to him now that he couldn’t fight with Berserker on even ground. Victory was still achievable, he just had to think outside the box.

Lancer reached out his hand and drew a symbol in the air. It exploded into an inferno and surged forward, threatening to consume Berserker. Lancer knew that Berserker was expecting Lancer to come from the side that Berserker left open in order to capitalize on the distraction that this rune was giving him, so Lancer instead went around the other way, running through his own fire in order to get to Berserker’s blind spot.

Lancer flung his hand out and quickly drew a rune on Berserker’s abdomen, right underneath his arm. Lancer suddenly felt a massive blow rock his head down, the very shockwave of which radiated down and shattered the concrete beneath them, causing both to fall into the building.

It was only now that Lancer recognized this place. It was the same building that they first met on.

Lancer rolled in the air as the two went plummeting down. They ripped through a small storage area that was directly underneath the roof, and fell into a much larger room, one with shelves and boxes stacked nearly to the ceiling. Lancer landed on one of these shelves, while Berserker went falling into the aisle between the shelves.

The red sun was the only light source in the room… and it did little to reveal the entire contents of the warehouse they were in now.

Lancer would capitalize on that. His Presence Concealment was still active. He’d take Berserker by complete surprise. He had successfully got one rune on him… he just needed two more.

Lancer dashed into the darkness.

* * *

Berserker stood up. He wasn’t sure just what Lancer had done to change himself, with his missing eye and overall demeanor altering, but Berserker doubted that it was actually beneficial for Lancer’s chances to beat him.

Berserker was doing better against Lancer this time around… but that may have been because Berserker had picked up some boxing tricks. It was entirely possible that Berserker had only gotten a temporary lead in close combat.

There was also the fact that Lancer hadn’t activated his full-body tattoo yet. Maybe he always planned on drawing Berserker into the warehouse, where he couldn’t see as easily. Lancer’s faux-Presence Concealment would make it nigh impossible to see him coming.

Berserker got into his stance again. He would remain in the middle of the light shining in from the hole in the roof. It wasn’t much, but it would give him a small chance at seeing Lancer coming.

His eyes were never stationary, always moving from spot to spot. He rotated on his back foot, making sure to never be facing one way for too long. He did his best to make sure there was no easiest way for Lancer to come at him.

That didn't mean that Lancer wouldn’t  _ find _ a way to come at him, especially since he had his Rune Magic. Berserker didn't know if Lancer could create illusions with those Runes, but if he could, Berserker would have no way of knowing what was real and what wasn’t.

Berserker spotted Lancer dashing out of the shadows out of the corner of his eye. Berserker responded by pivoting his hips toward him and throwing out a jab directly at Lancer’s head. Lancer was able to parry it with the haft of his spear, and quickly transitioned it into an attack directed at Berserker’s head. Berserker stepped back and swatted the end of the spear away, letting it bend and cut into his palm.

Berserker stepped forward to counter, but Lancer jumped back into the shadows, preventing him from executing his attack.

Berserker stepped back into the center of the light, and retook his fighting stance, waiting for Lancer’s next move.

He wondered momentarily if it might be better for him to enter the shadows and try to let his eyes adjust to the darkness... but that might take a bit longer than he was willing to sacrifice to Lancer. Lancer could get enough lethal hits in during the wait time that Berserker would likely lose more than he would gain.

Besides, the shelves would limit his mobility…

The shelves. Berserker had forgotten about them. The light from the roof was narrow, and hadn’t revealed them in their entirety. He wasn’t in a wide open space, where Lancer could attack him from any direction. He was in an aisle, which meant that Lancer would only attack from one of two directions.

Berserker changed his routine, focusing on the two ways Lancer could come from, instead of all four directions. It meant that Lancer was less likely to get the drop on him. Berserker soon found how wrong he was.

Lancer came careening out of the sky not a moment later, slashing his spear at Berserker. The weapon cut deeply into his shoulders and face, hitting him a total of three times before Berserker was able to reach up and throw a punch straight into Lancer’s gut.

Pain wracked Lancer’s face, and he went sailing back into the dark. Berserker placed a hand on his shoulders. The wounds weren’t terribly deep, thankfully, but throwing punches in the air would be more difficult now.

Berserker swore in his head. He should’ve known Lancer would attack from above. Just because the shelves were there didn’t mean that Lancer wouldn’t attack from that direction. He’d simply attack from above, and not straight on.

_ It was only a few good hits, _ Berserker thought to himself,  _ he hasn’t made up the difference just yet. _

Lancer came spinning out of the shadows from behind Berserker, but Berserker slid under Lancer’s attack and threw his leg out, tripping Lancer. Berserker immediately shot off to follow up, but Lancer flipped to his feet before he even touched the ground and warded Berserker off with a kick to the face.

Berserker retreated, but regained his composure in time to see Lancer dashing around to his right. It looked like he was trying to get at Berserker’s back. Berserker wouldn’t let him.

He rotated his position and threw out a few jabs to keep Lancer away from him. Lancer responded by drawing a rune on the blade of his spear and then slashing it at Berserker. From the tip of the spear, blue energy in the form of a line shot directly at Berserker. Berserker barely slipped around it just in time for Lancer to follow up with a few strikes at Berserker’s chest. Berserker quickly used his arms to cover himself and push forward to Lancer.

Lancer tried to bash him with the haft of the spear, but Berserker threw the spear’s edge off to the side and then let loose two massive body shots that sent Lancer careening back into the darkness once more…

But this time, Lancer hit the wall of the building, crashing through it. Sunlight broke into the room, this time flooding the majority of it. Berserker smirked. There was no hiding for him anymore.

Berserker looked down at the slashes on his chest that Lancer managed to give him. They weren’t terribly deep… Berserker must’ve been able to stop Lancer’s attack before it got too serious. But it almost seemed like Lancer was only interested in cutting his skin, and no deeper… what was he up to?

Berserker’s eyes widened. It wasn’t possible… He wouldn’t have. And yet it seemed like he did.

Berserker shook his head and pursued Lancer outside.

* * *

Lancer hadn’t expected Berserker to be as good at countering him as he was… but Lancer was still successful in putting his Runes on Berserker. He only had one left to do. Then he could get serious.

Lancer got to his feet. He had been knocked into a public playground. With the sun as high as it was, there was a fair chance that people would be getting up soon. He doubted that anyone lived close enough to be awakened by the commotion that he and Berserker were kicking up, but early risers may be coming to open their businesses in the area. He’d have to finish this fast if he wanted to avoid killing any witnesses.

Berserker slowly walked out of the warehouse and over into the playground. He didn’t take up a stance. Lancer took advantage of that and jumped, diving at him from above. Because of Berserker’s wounded shoulders, intercepting would be-

Lancer’s thoughts were interrupted when Berserker jumped as well, meeting him in the air. Lancer was amazed at first, but quickly refocused. He had an objective to complete. Lancer rotated in the air, sailing around Berserker’s punch. Lancer threw out his spear to cut Berserker on his cheek, completing the rune he had started on it.

Berserker didn’t seem to notice, and he threw out a kick that slammed into Lancer’s spear, tearing it out of his hands and causing it to lodge itself into a nearby hill. Lancer and Berserker both returned to the ground.

Lancer got to his feet and held out his hand, calling the spear to him. It wormed its way out of the hill and flew back towards him.

Suddenly, Berserker dashed in the way, snatching the spear out of the air. Lancer’s eyes widened as Berserker twirled it in his hands for a moment or two. Berserker then slammed it into the ground, cracking the Earth beneath him. He rooted his foot next to it and got his fists up into a fighting pose.

It was truly marvelous. Berserker had such raw talent at his disposal that if he had ever actually taken the time to listen and learn from someone smarter than him, he would be an absurdly skilled warrior in any martial art he could’ve chosen. The speed at which he learned was something special, even by a Heroic Spirit’s standards.

Lancer smiled. It didn’t matter. He had finished his final Rune on Berserker, which meant that he had completed his objective. He could fight for real now. Lancer summoned two Runes into the palms of his two hands.

He had no access to his full-body tattoos, his spear was trapped, and he was losing power from his Spiritual Core at a rapid pace. There was absolutely no way he could achieve victory anymore.

His smile grew wider. It was a perfect scenario for a warrior like him. He felt his blood surge within him. He let his aura slip out, just a little.

_ You thought you were facing the wise and all-knowing Odin… and indeed, until now, I played the part. But now let me show you, Berserker, the power and indomitable will of the warrior known as Woden! _

Lancer dashed forward, his focus unbreakable, his will enduring, and power fluctuating. His heart skipped a beat as finally, he was able to unleash-

The punch came from underneath. It was a left uppercut. Lancer saw it coming. But his body wouldn’t move. His legs weren't fast enough. He had lost too much power. He couldn’t stop his forward momentum. He couldn’t slide around it. He just had to watch as it smashed into his lower chin, throwing his face skyward, and compelling his feet to leave the ground from the force of the punch.

The two Runes in his hands fizzled out. He was out of Mana. It was over.

_ Dammit… I really thought I’d have more time _ , Lancer thought morosely.

His face slumped down in time to see Berserker’s right hand coming around to deliver a final right straight punch to Lancer.

_ Let’s meet again in another place, Berserker. I’ll beat you… next time. _

Lancer was thrown off his feet backwards, and he slid on the ground for a few feet before coming to rest at the foot of the hill where his spear had been buried. He didn’t feel any pain whatsoever.

He realized that he wasn’t dead. He was slightly confused.  _ He… grabbed me and threw me instead of punching me? _ Lancer thought.

“You fool…” Berserker grumbled, walking towards him.

Lancer lifted his head to look at Berserker, the look on his face unmistakable. “Ah… so you noticed,” Lancer smirked.

“What in Hades were you trying to do, attacking me with a broken Spiritual Core?” Berserker criticized, standing over him.

Lancer shakily raised his hand and pointed. His Runes that he had carved on Berserker’s body activated. Berserker was surprised as they glowed with power for a brief moment before fading out.

“You’ll forgive me for carving them with my spear so brutally. That's the only way they’ll stay active after I’m gone.”

Berserker looked back at him. “What did you…?”

“I sealed your Divinity. That golden chain of his… the Chains of Heaven, he called them… you wouldn’t have a chance if they could still affect you. By sealing your Divine blood, you’ll have a fighting chance,” Lancer explained.

Berserker clenched his fist. “You… you could have simply told me you were trying to help me.”

Lancer laughed. “As if you’d accept my help. You’re stubbornness would’ve never allowed it.”

“You don’t know that, you bastard.”

Lancer reached up his hand and pointed at his missing eye. “Actually, I do. It’s a shame that my eye couldn’t have stuck around for longer… but pulling skills from my future self is something that is supposedly impossible in the first place…”

Berserker just had a stern look on his face. If Lancer didn't know any better, he’d think that was a look of pity. Lancer struggled to get to his feet.

Much to his surprise, Berserker reached out and helped him up. “Odd for a Berserker like you to show such good manners,” Lancer smiled, moving slowly past him and grabbing onto his spear, which was still embedded in the ground.

Lancer pulled. The spear stayed still. He sighed. He didn’t even have enough power left to pull the spear out of the ground.

Berserker walked over and pulled it out for him, handing it to him.

“Thank you,” Lancer replied. He moved and walked up the hill he had been resting on. He raised his spear, aiming it over the horizon.

“Yes… about there,” he calculated. He had to be exact with the direction he threw this.

_ Master… if you would be so kind… _ he told Sakura telepathically. He felt a surge of Mana from her Command Seals.

He immediately redirected that power, letting it flood into the spear. He didn’t stop there. He let the spear continue to charge. He let it break. He turned the spear into a Broken Phantasm.

“ _ Gungnir _ ,” he spoke softly. He pitched the spear into the sky, letting it sail over the buildings and the mountains in the distance, disappearing past the horizon.

“What was that?” Berserker asked.

Lancer shrugged. “Call it my last act. With luck, someone will see it as it sails to its location… My desire is that it might bring hope to anyone who does.”

He looked back and saw Berserker just standing there, looking at him.

“We heroes have a responsibility to bring hope, even if only in a symbolic matter,” Lancer explained.

Berserker raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t know the Elder God Odin believed in wishing upon a star.”

“Woden.”

“...What?”

“My name. It’s Woden.”

“What's the difference, aren’t you the same person?”

Lancer gave a slight shrug. “In a way. But no man stands as tall as their legend. Not even a god could cover that distance.” Lancer looked back up towards the sky.

Berserker didn’t respond at first. “I remember why I disliked you when we first met.”

Lancer smirked, looking back down at Berserker. “Oh?”

There was another pause. “You remind me… of someone I took for granted.”

Berserker suddenly got on one knee and bowed his head, stunning Lancer into silence.

“Thank you for the lesson.”

Berserker got back to his feet and turned around, walking away.

Lancer could only stare for a moment. Dust that shone like gold entered his vision, snapping him out of his stupor. He looked down and saw his arms and legs fading away.

He just smiled and closed his eyes. He lifted his face and let the warm breeze of the morning take him away.

* * *

As the airplane left the runway, Sakura felt her whole body press back into her seat. She folded her hands neatly on her lap.

“Feels good to leave this place behind,” the man sitting next to her said. She glanced over at him. He wore plain clothes and a baseball cap.

“This has been the worst vacation ever, man. Bad weather aside, all that crazy flooding and all those explosions and flashing lights? No way am I sticking around here.”

Sakura took a breath and looked straight ahead.

_ There’s no way for us to achieve victory anymore… I’m sorry, Master, _ Lancer had said back when he had completed his ritual.

_ You shouldn’t be apologizing. You did the best you could, given the circumstances, _ she had replied,  _ I only wish I had been more… aware… of my own hand in the ruination of my life. _

_ There is still a life out there for you, Master. The ties of family are harder to sever than you think. _

Sakura tilted her head and looked out the window as the plane passed above the clouds.

“What about you? Were you vacationing, too?” the man asked.

Sakura just shook her head, keeping her eyes on the sky. “No… I was just trying to run away.”

“Hell of a town to come to for that.”

A sparkle caught Sakura’s eye. A streak of light suddenly flashed across the horizon, in the distance. It was only for a moment.

Sakura wondered if Rin could see the same shooting star… she hoped she could.

“Well, glad to put that all behind me, anyway,” the man continued.

“Yes… me too.”

* * *

As Berserker stepped out of his spirit form, Chiaki, who had been sitting on the steps that lead up to her room, looked up at him. Her eyes were red.

“You were fighting,” she sniffed.

Berserker nodded. “Yeah.”

Chiaki looked at the wall, and then, realizing that there was nothing on the wall to look at, looked down at her feet. “I’m sorry that I said you were running away. I know it's not true… I just…”

“I know. I’m sorry I ran off. I know you didn’t mean it, but I got angry anyway,” Berserker replied.

There wasn’t enough space for Berserker to sit next to Chiaki on the stairwell, so he instead just sat on the floor at the foot of the stairs, leaning up against the wall with his forearms resting on his knees.

“You were kind of right. I was running away from you.”

Chiaki looked up at him. “No you weren’t. You love Ariadne, it's not hard to understand why you would want to go find her.”

Berserker shrugged. “I’m not sure I  _ did _ love Ariadne. Not really. I liked her, and I thought she was beautiful… but thinking someone is beautiful and actually loving them are two very different things. When my battle with the Minotaur filled me with uncertainty, the thought of her should’ve made me resolute. But it didn’t. And that terrified me.”

“Ariadne… scared you?”

Berserker looked over at Chiaki.

“She looked at me the same way you do, Chiaki. With eyes full of admiration. They remind me of what everyone sees me as. They remind me that I’m supposed to be the mightiest hero of Greece. And I just don’t… know if…” Berserker’s voice trailed off and he looked away.

Chiaki didn’t say anything for a while. “...you don’t think you can?”

Berserker turned his head and looked at Chiaki. “If I’m the strongest hero, then I could save anyone. But… I don’t know if I can save you.”

Chiaki’s face softened, and she stood up, joining him at the bottom of the stairs, sitting on the other side of him. “Maybe you can’t save me. Maybe I am broken beyond repair. I don’t know. All I know is that when you’re with me… I don’t  _ feel _ broken. You’re not sure if you can be the hero that the legends say you are… but that's fine. I don’t need you to save me, Berserker. I just… need you to be here with me.”

Chiaki leaned against Berserker’s arm. He could hear her voice waver as she continued. “And I know… that we have to say goodbye eventually… but I don’t want you to go yet. Because you’re my hero.”

Berserker moved his arm and wrapped it around Chiaki, pulling her close. Chiaki nestled her head against his side.

“...and Heracles can go suck it.”

Berserker let out a laugh. Even though he could feel her tears running off her face, he could also feel her smile.

And that was the best feeling in the world.


	22. They Go Jumping

When Chiaki approached, Archer was kneeled, evidently in the middle of praying. Chiaki waited for him to finish.

It was noon. The storms that had plagued the town for the past day or two had now passed, and the sun now brightly shone down on the forest and Old Castle Einzbern. In the rain, Chiaki had thought it to be a creepy place… but now that the sun graced it with its rays, it looked more like the ruins of a once holy location.

 _I suppose that's what it actually is_ , Chiaki thought to herself.

Chiaki had gotten a little sleep between her reunification with Berserker and now. Once Chiaki had awoken, they decided to spend the rest of the day exploring the town. They never really got to do it when Berserker had first been summoned.

However, they found that they had received a message from Archer overnight. He requested that Chiaki come to Old Einzbern Castle to meet him. He had something to show her.

Archer raised his head and looked over at Chiaki. “You do not need to wait. You can come and join me if you wish.”

Chiaki felt a little sheepish. “I didn’t want to interrupt and I wouldn’t know what to… uh… _pray_ exactly. Not like I knew a whole lot of these people.”

Archer nodded. “I have found that there is largely no correct way to pray,” Archer replied, standing up and turning towards her. Chiaki walked closer, folding her hands together in front of herself.

He was still really good-looking. Chiaki was hoping that he would’ve somehow gotten less attractive. Luckily, he was wearing his baggy cape so his abs weren’t on full display, but he was still extremely distracting.

Chiaki did her best to look past him and to the castle. It was quiet, and seemingly empty.

“Where’s Remia?” Chiaki asked.

Archer didn’t respond, prompting Chiaki to look back at him. He had turned back to the grave he had made. Chiaki looked, and saw, among the hundreds that now occupied the space in front of Old Einzbern Castle, there was one grave that had a cowboy hat placed on top of it.

Chiaki’s heart sank. She had had a feeling, when she saw him in his sorry state during the fight…

“At least the hat makes his grave easy to find,” Archer said, “I think he would have appreciated the absurdity of that.”

Chiaki wasn’t sure what to say. There wasn’t a whole lot she _could_ say, she imagined.

“I’m sorry,” Chiaki eventually decided on. “What about Mrs. Tohsaka?”

“Gone. I am not sure where. Her personal possessions are missing. I can only assume that means she has left.”

Chiaki nodded slowly. “What was it you wanted to show me?”

Archer turned away and started to walk past the graves he had made. He motioned for Chiaki to follow him, so she did.

They walked around to the back of Old Einzbern Castle, where Archer led them down a trail that led through the forest.

“When I searched for a proper place to bury them… I looked around for any proper burial sites. I remembered Tohsaka saying something about a ‘Ley Line’ running beneath this place. As I understand, these ‘Ley Lines’ can absorb the life force of dead things, and turn it into Mana, though only a very little amount. I thought it would be a fitting place to bury him… as a way to return him to the Earth.”

Chiaki followed along and listened patiently. When Archer was finished, she replied with what she thought was appropriate. “That sounds like a good way to honor him.”

“Yes. But I wanted to make sure I buried him in the right location, so I looked for the exact borders of the Ley Line. There is only a single Ley Line, that runs on the border of the town, through this forest. One end is here, behind the castle.”

Archer stopped in front of a tree, looking up. They were quite a distance away from the castle at this point. “I came here and I found this.”

Chiaki stepped up next to him and looked up.

And she realized it was not a tree at all. It was a tall pillar of sorts, embedded into the ground. The top, which raised up to be nearly five times her height, was capped with a vertical line, and a loop on top. Chiaki had seen it before, only on a much smaller scale.

“Oh! It’s a… it’s a…” Chiaki tried to remember, snapping her fingers. She regretted not taking the time to commit its name to memory, but at the time, she was emotionally distressed and had no idea that its name would actually be important to her.

“Ab Reh Sah. A spirit needle. Only far larger than the ones Johnny had.”

 _Helps keep mana in the body when your dyin’ by blockin’ its flow. Like a dam,_ he had said.

Chiaki looked up and down the device. “Then… then that means that this is blocking the flow of mana into the Ley Line?”

“Actually, I feel it is preventing the flow of mana out. It is keeping it within the Ley Line. If I had to guess… there would be another one on the other side of Mt. Ganz. Or perhaps beneath Mt. Ganz,” Archer replied, placing a hand on the Ab Reh Sah.

“But… why?”

“With a Servant as powerful as his… I doubt there would be enough mana in the world to keep him summoned, unless you were to gather every last scrap of mana remaining in the world and gather it into a single place.”

 _The only reason she’s still alive right now is because he wants her that way. The Man Under the Mountain_.

“Uhlan… he planned it all from the very beginning. He was hiding underneath Mt. Ganz the entire time,” Chiaki realized.

“Likely so.”

“It was all planned for him to summon Saint Michael… but why? What does he need the Grail for when he’s already the ruler of the world?”

Archer thought for a moment. “I think… only those closest to him would know.”

It took Chiaki a second to realize that Archer was looking at her. She pointed at herself. “Me?”

Archer shrugged. “I would not know. But if it is true… that at one point he was your friend… then if there is an answer, you would be the only one who could figure it out.”

Chiaki furrowed her brow. The last thing she needed to do right now was to start pitying someone like Uhlan… 

“I don’t know… it's been a long time since I’ve thought about anything we ever did together.”

Archer nodded and looked back at the Ab Reh Sah. “Then perhaps the answer is truly lost.”

His arms moved within his cloak, and he soon pulled out a pistol, much to Chiaki’s surprise. She recognized it as the one Remia carried around with him.

Archer held it out for her. “Remia wanted you to have this.”

Chiaki took a step back, looking at the pistol, and then back to Archer. “What?”

“He said you were the only one who knew how to use the Detonation now.”

Chiaki looked closer at the pistol. She gingerly reached out her hand and picked it up. It was cold, and heavier than she thought it would be. The way Remia twirled it around made it seem weightless.

“I… I don’t know what to say…” Chiaki spoke.

Archer nodded, moving past her and back towards the castle. “That is usually how it goes.”

She turned and looked at him. “What are you going to do now? You’ve buried all the victims, right?”

Archer didn’t turn around. “Yes. Now all that is left is to honor them.”

Chiaki watched him walk away for a while. She tightened her grip around the pistol.

She took a step toward him. “Archer.”

Archer stopped walking.

“You said… back then… that the real me was trapped inside my soul. Well… I know why she was trapped. Now I know how to let the real me out. It's just… I’m afraid because I don’t really know who she is. I’ve lived as this pent up version of myself for the past five years, and I don’t know what kind of a person has been building inside of me.”

Archer chuckled and turned around, looking at her. “I did not say you were trapped in yourself. I said there was passion trapped inside of you. You are the same person you’ve always been, Chiaki. It is only when you thought of Uhlan that you stopped having the drive to _be_ that person.”

She processed his words… but she didn’t think that she understood them at all. “I guess… I just don’t know who I am, then.”

Archer smiled a sad smile at her and turned around. “You will know very soon. I promise you that.”

“Archer!”

He didn’t stop walking, and made no sign that he had heard what Chiaki said.

Chiaki continued anyway. “I’m glad I met you!”

He raised his hand in a wave. Maybe it was to say ‘ _me too_ ’. Maybe it was to say ‘ _of course_ ’. Chiaki didn’t know, and it was likely she’d never find out.

She knew that they’d never see each other again.

* * *

“All set?” Berserker asked.

“I can’t help but feel there’s a better way to go about this,” Chiaki replied, placing her arms around Berserker’s neck, getting up onto his back, and looking over his shoulder.

“Just remember, don’t let go. It's as simple as that.”

“Oh, so all I have to do is ‘not do the thing that will kill me’? Good advice.”

“I’m from Ancient Greece, it's better advice than you think.”

They were standing at the foot of a mountain. It was a smaller mountain than Mt. Ganz, and was, in fact, less than half its size. It was a bit of a ways away from town, as well, but it was the only other mountain in the area.

“Let’s just get this over with,” Chiaki sighed.

“As you wish.”

Berserker kicked off the ground, jumping above the trees and smashing down into the ground a few meters from where they had started.

“Woah… woah! Don’t start off like that!” Chiaki protested, flipping her now befuddled hair out of her eyes.

“Start off like what? This is how you jump.”

“No, you start with a _small_ jump.”

“That _was_ a small jump.”

“...I am regretting this.”

“Nope, too late, here we go.”

“ _BERSERKER!”_

Tearing off the ground once more, Chiaki felt her stomach rise in her chest as the two went sailing even higher than before. The sheer wind resistance scraped at her eyes, and she shut them and buried her head in Berserker’s… whatever the part between his shoulder and neck was called.

Having her eyes in darkness while her body was in motion, particularly during the part in which they were falling back down to the Earth, made her want to throw up.

She felt a sudden stop, signifying that they had landed.

“Huh? You can’t hide your face like that! It defeats the purpose.”

Chiaki unburied her face and gave Berserker a dirty look.

“I can’t _see_ when you’re up there. The wind is too strong.”

“You can’t see when you’re down here, either.”

“I should’ve brought goggles or something.”

“That would’ve been smart. Just keep your eyes closed, and when we’re at the _peak_ of the jump, _then_ open your eyes.”

“Right, so I can see for two seconds before the air rips my eyes out of their sockets.”

“Now you’re getting it.”

“I was being-”

Berserker blasted off into the sky, cutting Chiaki short. Her head, momentarily ripped backwards, quickly found its way back to being buried. She didn’t have a problem with motion sickness, but feeling the rush of movement without being able to see was possibly the most terrifying thing she had ever experienced. She wondered if having her eyes dried out was really worth that.

“We’re at the peak now! Open your eyes!”

Chiaki lifted up her head and opened her eyes just as Berserker's upwards movement slowed. For a moment, she felt weightless, hanging off Berserker’s back. A beautiful landscape greeted her, and she realized that she could see the top of the mountain directly ahead of them. If they were to jump while there… who knows how far they’d be able to see?

Such thoughts occupied her mind as they fell back down, which distracted her from the horrifying thought of crashing and dying.

“Well? How was it?” Berserker asked as he jogged along the forest floor.

Chiaki’s heart was still racing. She felt… something up there. “I mean… it wasn’t awful. The view was actually kind of nice.”

“So, you want to go again?”

“I didn’t say tha-”

Berserker took off again, cutting her off. This time, they sailed even higher than they had before. Chiaki didn’t close her eyes, and found that actually watching their ascent truly alerted her to the terror of how high they were going.

“Wow! You can see the horizon over the mountaintop!”

“ _I AM GOING TO DIE!_ ” she screamed past the raging winds.

“Oh, don’t be like that.”

Berserker came back down, and Chiaki was annoyed that she had been so panicked that she didn’t even get to take in the view that time around.

“ _Stop_ . _Jumping_ . _Without_ . _Telling_ . _Me._ ”

“Fine, I’ll give you some proper warning next time. But listen, we’ve got to get a move on if we want to get to the mountaintop anytime soon.”

“...Fine. But start _slowly_ , then get faster so I can get used to it.”

“Heh heh.”

“Grow up, Berserker.”

“Make me. Alright, here we go. You should still be able to keep your eyes open for these first few jumps, but I’ll be sure to tell you when we’re at the peak of the jumps after a while, sound good?”

Chiaki didn’t like how casual he was being with the fact that they were jumping somewhere in the range of a hundred meters into the air. She growled in discontentment. “Alright, then, as long as you give me a warning.”

“Okay. Here comes the next jump.”

Berserker took off, and he sailed high, but not as high as before. Chiaki’s eyes suffered from the wind… but she found herself somewhat less terrified than before. She could feel her heartbeat rising as she saw them seemingly leave the world behind. She felt that weightlessness again.

It really did feel like they were flying.

But it came to an end all too soon, and they came back to Earth less only a few seconds later. Chiaki didn’t want to admit it… but she felt a bit disappointed it didn’t last longer.

“...Well, you probably don’t have to ramp up _that_ slowly. I can handle more than this.”

“Oh? Are you actually telling me to jump higher?”

“You want me to change my mind?”

“Ha! As if that were possible. Here comes jump number two!”

Berserker’s legs sprung him and Chiaki into the sky. As they left the planet momentarily, Chiaki felt that same feeling build up inside her. It was exciting. Still a little scary… but a good scary. She didn't think that feeling was possible.

The horizon in front of her greeted her once more, and Chiaki found her eyes wandering to the horizons off to the side of themselves. The trees that made up the forest became scarce on one end, eventually leading to a grassland plain. On the opposite side, the ocean mirrored the sky perfectly, and it was like the world itself had gone missing, and Berserker and her were just flying through an infinite space.

It was spectacular.

“Woo! _Now_ we’re getting somewhere,” Berserker laughed as he landed.

“Yeah, that was a little… exciting.”

“Aw, is Mrs. Prudy von Angry-Eyebrows actually having _fun_ back there?”

“I will kill you with a Command Seal.”

“It’ll be worth every jest!” Berserker replied, taking flight.

They soared even higher. Maybe higher than they had before. Chiaki didn’t notice. She was too busy looking at the world around them. She had seen the horizons in each direction… except behind her. She twisted her head, looking back. Her hair threatened to block her vision, but it was luckily kept out of her face by getting stuck on Berserker’s face.

As he tried to fight off the attack by Chiaki’s hair, she was able to see that now they even sailed over Mt. Ganz behind them. They could touch the clouds if they wanted to. Not that there were any left in the sky right now.

They came crashing back into the Earth, slightly rougher than before considering that Berserker had been multitasking.

“...Wow. Geez, it's actually kind of nice up there. You can see straight over Mt. Ganz, back towards the town,” Chiaki noted finally turning forward again.

Berserker gave her a look. 

Chiaki shrugged. “What?”

Berserker just shook his head and gained a smile that Chiaki didn’t trust. “If it's such a great view, I’ll have to have a look for myself, won’t I?”

“...And what does that mean…?”

“Spinning jump!”

Berserker jumped, spinning himself like a top as he climbed into the sky. The world around them was a blur of movement, and Chiaki found it harder than ever to hold on. She closed her eyes tightly, trying to shut out the spinning. She involuntarily found herself screaming until they finally secured themselves on solid ground.

Berserker wavered about for a moment or two. “Ha ha! I could barely see anything! That was damn fun! I’ll have to try that again…”

“Don’t or I might throw up,” Chiaki immediately protested, looking at the path in front of them and trying to convince herself it was straight. She noticed that the summit was within sight. “In any case, we’re near the top.”

“Oh? So soon? Well alright… let’s end it off with a _big finish_ ,” Berserker replied, getting that distrustful smile once more.

“What are you planning? It better not involve any spinning!”

“How do you feel about flipping?”

“Positively terrifying.”

“What about being upside-down?”

“Worse than flipping.”

“What about… you only hold on with one hand?”

“That’s the worst thing you’ve suggested so far.”

“Got it, so do anything but the last one.”

“Right.”

She realized only too late what she had done. “Wait, n-”

Berserker rocketed into the air, flipping end over end and laughing the entire way.

“ _I HATE YOU, BERSERKER! I HATE YOU SO MUCH!”_ Chiaki shrieked as she clung ever tighter to him. 

The cyclone of chaos and movement that encircled them came to a sudden halt. However, Chiaki’s head was still spinning, so she wasn’t sure that they were on solid ground just yet.

“Well? That wasn’t so bad, now was it?” Berserker said as Chiaki flipped her hair out of her eyes, looking to see that they were, indeed, on the ground. 

The first chance she got, she let go of Berserker and fell to the grass. She just let herself lay there, staring up at the bright blue sky for a few moments. “You jump the same way you drive.”

“Excitingly?’

“Recklessly.”

“Close enough,” Berserker replied, sitting on the ground next to her.

Chiaki sat up, taking a look around them. They were next to a cliffside, one that gave a nice view of the town.

She was thankful for the nice weather today. It was a bit chilly up on the mountain, but the sun and the summer breeze warmed her.

Her attention turned to Berserker, who placed the bag he had been holding down in between them. “I hope nothing got damaged in all that jumping nonsense.”

“It’s hardly nonsense. Jumping is a fine art that only those that _can_ jump can really appreciate,” Berserker replied, beginning to dig through the bag. After several seconds of rummaging, he pulled out a book and handed it to her.

 _‘Athens - the Legendary Stories’_ the title read. She cracked the book open and flipped through, guiding herself to the ‘Theseus’ section.

Berserker then produced two plastic cups in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other.

Chiaki gave him a look. “Where the hell did you get that wine?”

“Winery.”

His response earned an eye roll from Chiaki.

“Don’t give me any attitude,” Berserker defended himself, pouring the wine into the cups, “It’s not my fault you kept forgetting to get good wine. I simply took matters into my own hands.” He handed one to Chiaki, and she took it, returning her gaze to the numerous pages dedicated to the ‘Wise King of Athens.’

“So, do you want to start or should I?” Berserker asked, taking a sip of his wine.

Chiaki still hadn’t found something to ask about quite yet. “Go ahead.”

Berserker nodded. “Alright. What was the first Magecraft you stole?”

“Magecraft or Magic Crest?”

“Magecraft.”

“It was back when my dad was still alive. He kept forgetting the keys to our penthouse and getting us locked out. One day, he took me to work and I wandered around in an office, waiting for him to finish, and I happened to see an incantation for unlocking simple locks laying on some professor’s desk. I figured I’d swipe it and return it before he even noticed it was gone.”

“Did he?”

“Yup. Since our penthouse was within the Clock Tower itself, his door not only resisted the incantation, a signal was sent out to Magi Defense that I had even tried. I nearly got incinerated for my trouble.”

“Fun story.”

“Not for me. It was the first time I learned that the Clock Tower doesn’t take kindly to asians.”

“How did your dad even land a job at the Clock Tower if he was asian?”

“Well, it's not like we can’t work there, it's just that people tend to look down on us. A lot of higher ups and well-respected members were Japanese, if I remember correctly.”

Berserker processed the information. “Alright then. That's a little disappointing, but I’ve got my next question lined up. Your turn.”

Chiaki’s eyes scanned the page for a few moments, and she found herself struggling to really find something on him that she wanted to ask about… she’d ask something unrelated to the book for now, just to keep the conversation rolling.

_Hmm… Unrelated to Athens…_

“So… Do you have any fun Argonaut stories?”

“What does that mean? Isn’t the Argonautica itself a fun story?”

“I mean… something they didn’t talk about in legend? Surely _something_ crazy must’ve gone down that was deemed not important enough to go in the book.”

Berserker looked up to the sky for a moment. “I can’t really say. I wasn’t exactly in a good state of mind when I went on the Argos. I only volunteered to go since Pirithous wanted to.”

“I don’t think I’ve heard of Pirithous.”

“Mm. He was… a friend, I suppose.”

“You suppose?”

“He was a hedonist, even more so than I was. It was him who suggested we try to abduct daughters of Zeus as our brides. His solution to everything was either drinking, fighting, or having sex.”

“What, like you?”

“Like me but on steroids.”

“Aren’t you already on steroids?”

“Magic steroids, maybe. Listen, Pirithous was an asshole, through and through. But… he was also the only one who saw that I was hurting after Ariadne. And maybe he thought what he was doing was helping.”

Berserker drank the rest of his cup in one gulp. “...maybe he didn’t know _how_ to help me.”

“Maybe you didn’t need help. Maybe you just needed time.”

“Regardless… whether what he did was right or wrong-”

“Definitely wrong.”

“-he was still my friend. My… _only_ friend, at the time.”

Chiaki let the book rest on her knees for a moment, and she looked directly at Berserker. “Surely you’ve made more friends than just that guy. What about all the Argonauts?”

Berserker thought for a moment. “I’ll be sure to give you an answer _after_ you answer my next question.”

Chiaki gave an aggravated sigh. “Fine then. Go on.”

“What was the first Magic Crest you stole?”

“The first one I _got_ or the first one I _stole_?”

“There’s a difference?”

“Yes.”

“Fine then. Stole.”

“Borzak. She was locked up in the Clock Tower for trying to destroy the Association. Originally, I just wanted to ask if I could have it, but she hated the world of Magecraft so much that she refused. I decided to lift it off her while she was asleep and moved on.”

“How’d you get in to see her if she was locked up?”

“Lockpicking. The Association prides itself on their magical security, but their physical security has slipped somewhat.”

“So what's the first Crest you _got_? Or were you just referring to the Unification Circuit?”

Chiaki put up a finger to silence him. “You need to answer my question first.”

“Oh, right. Wait, what was your question again?”

“Your attention span isn’t _that_ bad.”

“You underestimate me.”

Chiaki just shook her head and rolled her eyes. “Were you friends with anyone besides Pirithous? What about the Argonauts?”

“Ah. Well, aside from Pirithous… no. We were crewmates, and I respected each and every one of them, of course. I suppose I enjoyed watching them be, more than actually interacting with them. Jason and Medea were a happy couple… it killed me to hear what had happened to them when I was summoned here.”

“You mean you were never told what happened while you were alive?”

Berserker shook his head. “Maybe someone somewhere brought it up with me, but I’d’ve been through the Underworld by that time. I can’t say I was particularly conscious of my life after that. I had ‘checked out’, so to speak.”

Leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees, he turned to Chiaki. “Your turn. First Magic Crest you _got_.”

Chiaki arched an eyebrow at him. She set the book beside her and leaned back, resting on her elbows. “Guy named Matou. He was at the Clock Tower, just visiting, I believe. When I asked if I could have it, he said that he had no use for it since Magecraft was coming to an end anyway. He told me something about having to remake it after his Grandfather died, which is why it looked so small and pathetic.”

“Which one is it?”

“The small and pathetic one, obviously,” Chiaki joked. Berserker sighed and shook his head, which made Chiaki smile. “It’s greyish-blue, on my left shoulder blade,” Chiaki answered.

“Alright then. Your turn to ask me a question.”

The wind blew, moving the hair in Chiaki’s face. She brushed it off to the side thoughtfully. “How…” she hesitated. “How did you die?”

Berserker blinked. “You didn’t see?”

“No. I saw you trapped on that… rock, or whatever it was. I never saw how you died for real.”

After a few moments of consideration, Berserker stood up. “I did die on that rock. I know that Heracles pulled me off it, but… the person that walked out of the Underworld wasn’t really me. I’d… been broken, I guess. I didn’t need someone to pull me off the rock, I needed someone to help me walk out on my own. When he took me out, I was just an empty shell. Perfect for Athena to fill my mind with her words, and for me to pass them off as my own ‘wisdom’. That's what she wanted for a King of Athens - just a puppet to do as she said.”

Berserker folded his arms and got a serious look in his eye. “I regret not beating her to a pulp when I met her on that beach.”

“You would’ve died.”

Berserker turned and looked at her with that serious look. She didn’t fall for it. She could see the pain behind it.

“Then I would’ve died doing the right thing.”

Chiaki felt the guilt rising up in her again. She looked away, towards the town.

She wanted to change the subject, but she stopped herself. She only wanted to avoid it because of that feeling that Uhlan gave her. The sense of betrayal she got whenever she got close to someone. But he didn’t have anything to do with this.

Chiaki stood up, placing her cup on the ground where she had been sitting, and walked towards Berserker. She placed her hand lightly on his arm, the one encased in the Ariadne Thread.

Instantly, all the built up guilt she had vanished, replaced by outrage that she even needed to place her hand on Berserker’s arm to speak her mind. She buried that anger and returned her mind to the task at hand.

She looked up, directly into Berserker’s eyes.

“Why do you have to die at all? Why do Heroes always need to sacrifice themselves? Why couldn’t you just… run away, and be happy?”

Berserker didn’t shy away from her gaze. “Because that’s the deal. A hero is someone who saves others in their time of need. In order to do so, your own happiness is forfeit.”

Chiaki shook her head. “But why is it that way? Why couldn’t you have taken Ariadne and run away, and lived with her? She’d be happy, _you’d_ be happy.”

Berserker shook his head. He knelt down, placing his other hand over Chiaki’s. “You’re not listening, Chiaki. A pup will always grow into a dog, otherwise it is not a pup. Rain will always fall from the sky, otherwise it is just water. There are fundamental attributes that are a part of any given thing, inherent to its nature. Inseparable. Saving one person means not saving yourself. If I ran with Ariadne, Athena would hunt us. Even if, by some miracle, we were to escape from her, there would still be so many people that Athena would hurt in our stead. She would’ve found a new King of Athens. A new wife for Dionysus. We… _I_ bear these sufferings so someone else out there doesn’t have to.”

Chiaki just listened, her heart dropping with every word. She shook her head when he had finished.

“But you don’t even know those people.”

“That doesn’t mean they’re not people.”

She let her head dip, and her gaze fell to the ground. The worst part of this whole situation was that she was asking questions to try and understand. And unfortunately, she did.

“Why’d my best friend have to be some dumb Greek asshole from over two-thouand years before I was born?”

Berserker nodded. “I could ask a similar question.”

They were silent for a time, and the wind came to break the silence. It passed.

“...Can you beat him? Saber? The real one, I mean?”

Berserker smirked. “Uhlan’s Saber isn’t ‘more real’ than Loyuffon’s Saber. He’s powerful, sure, but…”

“I couldn’t comprehend it.”

“Hmm?”

“That energy that he shot out of his sword that killed Caster… it was like… I was staring at something infinitely more important than anything else. Like it’d be around forever. And the garden being destroyed, and Caster… they weren’t destroyed by it, they were just _impermanent_ in comparison to it. I can’t even… describe it right, I don’t think.”

Berserker furrowed his brow, and closed his eyes.

“It's nature is just something we aren’t meant to know,” Chiaki continued, “How do you beat something like that?”

Berserker opened his eyes. “The same way you’d beat a god, I’d imagine.”

Chiaki smiled. He was never short on confidence.

Berserker patted her on the shoulder. “Ah, but it's no time for sulking. We’ve got the rest of the day ahead of us, and it’d be foolish to waste the sun while it's out by merely coming up with strategies!”

He turned and moved back towards the wine bottle and his cup, pouring himself a second drink.

Chiaki took a deep breath. He was right. There was still time. She’d enjoy it while she could. “Your turn to ask me a question,” she said to change the topic.

Berserker took a sip of his cup and sat down again, looking up at Chiaki. “Well… tell me about another Crest you stole. What's your favorite?”

“I don’t have a favorite Crest. They’re all the same to me.”

“And yet you remember where you got each one.”

“They’re all _important_ , I just don’t have one more important than the others.”

Berserker put a hand up to his chin. “Then what about the Lightning Cestus? Where did you get those from?”

“D’Astrapi. I remember him. He was an outcast, even in his own family. Just didn’t keep things very well organized in his room.”

“That’s it? No special story? Why do you use them?”

“‘Cause they’re easy to use. Just call lightning to your hands and then punch idiots.”

Lightning suddenly curled around her hand and she bolted forward, trying to slap Berserker, who easily dodged.

* * *

From the top of the church belltower, there was a strange being encased in silver armor, looking at the street below. On the side of the street, just under the tower itself, were a group of drunkards and vagabonds singing Kumbaya. 

The place of worship beneath them was abandoned, and just outside, there was a group of people singing a hymn developed after his time. Uhlan wondered what was going through True Saber’s mind at this sight.

“Are you ready?” Uhlan asked.

A moment passed before True Saber replied. “I am always ready.”

Uhlan waited for him to elaborate, or to speak further. He didn’t. Uhlan hated lulls in the conversation.

“I’ll be ready as well. For everything.” The lack of a response from True Saber prompted Uhlan to fold his hands behind him and walk up beside True Saber. “Did you find the answer you were looking for? Out on your ‘pilgrimage’, as it were?”

“A pilgrimage is only the journey _towards_ Jerusalem. Not away from it,” was True Saber’s cryptic reply.

Uhlan sighed. “I had forgotten about your usual no-nonsense attitude.”

“Why did you not alert me sooner to Rider and Caster’s actions?” True Saber suddenly spoke, turning to face Uhlan fully. “Had I not told you that Humanity’s survival took precedence?”

The sudden action by True Saber surprised Uhlan. He took a moment to think about what True Saber had asked. He wondered if he could truly lie to him…

“I did not want to reveal our hand too early.”

True Saber kept his masked stare focused on Uhlan, betraying no emotion or thought. He was totally unreadable. Uhlan felt, in his very presence, the same power most heard in his voice. He was mightiness incarnate, directed towards ‘justice’.

“Was your ‘strategy’ truly worth the lives of so many?” True Saber spoke.

Uhlan felt the sting of jealousy rise in him once again. If only he was more open-minded… then Uhlan wouldn’t have to run around him and lead him along.

But then again, Uhlan didn’t want him for his ideology… he wanted him for his power, and his image. Uhlan had the entire might of the world at his beck and call, and he had spent the last five years hunting down the correct rituals and relics for the perfect Heroic Spirit to complete his plan.

Saint Michael was that Heroic Spirit. Uhlan knew that it was dangerous to summon him into the world… but Uhlan’s ‘special situation’ made him the only one suitable to be the Master of such an unequivocally powerful Servant, and he felt like that fact was a sign of universal providence.

Uhlan avoided Michael’s nonexistent gaze. “Perhaps it wasn’t. That's not for me to judge.”

True Saber tilted his head. “You recognize your sin, yet you perform it anyway.”

“I’ve done worse. At least the evils I perform now serve a greater good,” Uhlan responded, turning and walking away. He was getting more and more irritated by this exchange.

But True Saber persisted. “What greater good can come of any evil action?”

Uhlan turned. “Not all of us are as perfect as you,” he snapped. “Would you have me die for my past mistakes?”

True Saber was suddenly in front of him, bearing down over him. His tone did not change.

“ _Without question_.”

Uhlan crumbled under the weight of his aura, faltering and stumbling back. His foot found some random piece of debris and he tripped, falling backwards.

True Saber reached out and grabbed Uhlan by his collar before he fell. “Monsters deserve no pity,” True Saber spoke.

There was silence between them for a moment. Uhlan knew that True Saber was about to kill him. There was no other recourse. All his life would be reduced to nothing in an instant before this man. No… this being above mankind.

Uhlan found himself back on his feet and stable. True Saber let him go and slowly walked back to where he had been before, the clinking of his armor echoing out across the room. It was disrupted only by the singing of Kumbaya.

Uhlan’s breathing slowed, and he realized how panicked he had been. He truly believed he was going to die. The idea that True Saber wouldn’t kill him because he was True Saber’s Master hadn’t even crossed his mind.

He straightened himself out and quickly turned to leave the room. He placed a hand on his chest, where his Command Seals were. He knew they would do nothing to him. Even if Uhlan tried to reinforce them with his own Mana… it would be useless. There was no reasoning with someone like him. Which is why Uhlan hated never knowing what he was thinking.

Uhlan found himself relying on his cane for the first time ever as an actual walking stick. He found his legs weak.

Uhlan gritted his teeth and pulled his cane up, forcing his legs to walk by themselves. He tumbled to the ground not a moment later.

 _How pathetic_ , he heard Kayneth say.

“Shut up!” he screamed, struggling to his knees.

He was the foremost powerful Magus in the world, due in no small part to his heritage. He was not weak. He was not a frail, impotent person like that bastard, Kayneth. He was so much more.

The image of that night… finding Kayneth in a crumpled heap on the floor, clutching onto a photograph of his mother…

There was no end to the anger he felt for that moment.

 _You made my life hell, as if it would somehow free you from your own hell. Why should_ I _suffer for_ your _weakness?_

 _Monsters deserve no pity_ , True Saber had said.

Uhlan placed a hand on his knee, gripping his cane and standing with it. He looked down at the red, ornate cane.

It was the only true legacy he chose to bear. It would support him through these trying times. He had made it from the very same spearhead he used to kill Kayneth with. The very same he had used to kill Kenshin with, as well…

Uhlan closed his eyes. He shut out that night. It would be time for that very soon. Very soon.

He opened his eyes, and continued down the hallway.


	23. Revelation

The little time Chiaki had to rest was mostly spent with her staring up at the ceiling. She couldn’t sleep. Nor did she really want to. She knew it was smart for her to, but her mind was alive and buzzing.

It was reasoning, worrying, struggling, and everything in between. Her brain raced a mile a minute and there didn’t seem to be any way of slowing it.

She and Berserker had come back when the sun began to sink, meaning they had about two hours of relaxation before they would head out. She wondered what Berserker was doing. She wondered if she should go find him and talk with him. They had talked so much during the day, but she felt the need to talk further.

They had gone over the plan several times already. They had come up with it the very morning after they learned that Uhlan had returned. It was a longshot, and somewhat complicated… but it was logistically the only way they could feasibly win the upcoming battle.

It was all the details involved that worried her. All those uncertainties. If one thing went wrong...

Chiaki’s anxious hearing alerted her that there was a knock at the door. She sat up in her bed, almost glad that there was an interruption to her “rest”. She slipped out from underneath the covers and quickly moved downstairs, heading towards the door.

Berserker beat her to it, but she could see who was standing in their doorway. A young, sickly girl, with pale skin and dark rings around her eyes. It had been some time since Chiaki had last seen her, so it took a moment for Chiaki to recognize Trussa Loyuffon.

“Chiaki Naka…” the girls’ words were interrupted by a coughing fit. Berserker immediately stepped out and helped her inside, taking a brief glance around the outside of the apartment, presumably to check if she was alone.

Chiaki wasted no time in getting her some water and helping to guide her to a seat in the living room.

“I’m terribly sorry… I only mean to relay a… a message and be on my… way…” Trussa wheezed out before accepting the glass of water from Chiaki.

The poor girl looked to be in rough shape. Perhaps she had been attacked? It would explain why her butler was strangely absent from her side.

“Saber is… gone. He was… foolishly thrown out. I used a Command Seal to undo… a previous command telling him to leave. I have no more Command Seals to retrieve him, and as you can see… I am in no good condition to go myself.”

“And what of Dormir? Is he not able to, either?” Berserker asked.

“Not willing, more accur-” she was once again interrupted by a wheezing cough.

Chiaki stepped forward, preparing a healing spell and laying it on her. She tried to focus on her lungs… but it didn’t seem to help. Perhaps the cough came from somewhere else.

“I have found myself… short on help, and perhaps… on time. Saber is confused… and lost… and very easily manipulated,” Trussa tilted her head, shakily leaning into a bow towards Berserker and Chiaki. “Please, I beseech you… as head of the Loyuffon Family… save him. I shall reward-”

She was interrupted by Berserker stifled a groan. “Raise your head. I’m not fond of being bowed to,” Berserker spoke. “And furthermore, you can keep any talk of a reward to yourself. We need no such thing.”

Chiaki couldn’t agree more. “Do you have any idea of where Saber’s gone?” Chiaki asked.

Trussa looked up at them, the surprise in her eyes suppressed beneath a tired face. “Mt. Ganz…”

Berserker and Chiaki exchanged looks. They had figured out that Uhlan’s base of operations was likely in a cave on the side of Mt. Ganz, based on what Assassin had said. If what Trussa said was true, then Saber was in the hands of Uhlan, as well as True Saber and possibly Assassin.

It was likely that he was already dead.

“We’ll look for him. We’re going to Mt. Ganz anyway,” Chiaki assured, placing a hand on Trussa’s shoulder. “You’re free to stay here, if you need to.”

Trussa smiled weakly. “I don’t int… intend to stay long. But a short rest would… do me some good, I believe.”

“You can sleep in my room,” Chiaki offered. She took Trussa under her arm and helped her to her feet.

“I’ll take her,” Berserker offered.

“I’ve got it.”

Berserker only nodded, and folded his arms.

_ What do you want to do? _ he asked her telepathically.

_ What I said we’d do. We’ll look for him on our way. I doubt he's engaged anyone in combat. He’s probably just hiding somewhere. We’ll have time after we beat Uhlan. _

_ And you’re sure you  _ can _ beat Uhlan? _

_ I can handle myself. I haven’t been training with you every night for nothing. _

_ We’ve only trained in hand-to-hand combat. It’ll give you an edge, but it might not be enough. You told me this guy was a prodigy, right? _

_ Something like that. His actual skill is only moderately above-average. But the amount of Mana he possesses is extraordinarily high, far above anything any modern magus could possibly hope to match. He can afford to rely less on Mana from Ley Lines, which is something no one had ever thought necessary before. Because of that, it takes less effort for him to produce amazing results. _

_ Which means that if he gets serious at any point during this fight, you’re done for. _

When Chiaki went to reply, she realized she had been standing in front of her closed door for some time. She opened it, and helped Trussa to the bed.

_ I have Johnny’s gun _ , she continued.

_ Do you know how to use it? _

_ Safety off, aim and shoot. How hard can it be? _

_ I mean the Detonation. Have you ever done it before, in practice? _

_...I know enough. Remia told me that I should barely touch the container of Magical Energy, otherwise it might backfire. He said it was ‘like pushing a marble’. _

_ So push it like a marble or blow yourself up. Against an opponent who outclasses you in every way. You have no chance of victory. _

_ I learn from the best. _

She heard Berserker laugh downstairs. It made her smile.  _...Alright then. Let’s get started. Let’s hope that plan of yours actually works. _

* * *

Saber looked out over the town. The sun had descended behind the horizon, but it’s glow remained, keeping a small percentage of the sky alight against the oncoming blackness of night.

He had his hands folded simply, his elbows resting on his knees. It wasn’t long before he saw  _ them _ approach.

“Saber?” Berserker asked, walking up to him. Chiaki Nakazawa followed closely behind.

Saber just pointed his thumb over his shoulder in towards the cave entrance. “He’s been waiting.”

They were silent for a few moments. He could see the temporary shock on their faces.

“Don’t tell me… that you’re serving Uhlan?” Berserker asked.

Saber shook his head. “I don’t know  _ who _ I serve anymore… certainly not who I thought I did.”

“...What happened with Trussa?” Chiaki asked.

Saber shook his head again. “She trusted me, that's what happened.”

Berserker stepped forward, kneeling down in front of him. He was so much taller than Saber, that they only now looked each other in the eye. “You failed her.”

Saber said nothing, and did not avert his gaze.

Berserker sighed and closed his eyes. He reached out to place a hand on Saber’s shoulder, but Saber shook him off. “You should get going before he decides to come out after you,” Saber said.

“Trussa’s been looking for you,” Chiaki interjected, leaning around Berserker.

_ She shouldn’t be, _ Saber reasoned in his head.

Berserker was silent as he stood and moved around him. He must’ve motioned for Chiaki to follow him, because Chiaki did just that a few moments later.

“I’ll be back, Saber,” Berserker promised.

Saber kept his gaze on the town.  _ No you won’t _ , he thought.

Even if, against all odds, he somehow defeated True Saber… there was no way that Berserker was coming back for Saber. There was no coming back from what he was about to do.

Assassin revealed himself, patting Saber on the shoulder. “Good boy. Now get in the cave. It's time we begin.”

Saber sluggishly pulled himself to a standing position. He turned and marched in behind Assassin, who had his Master and the corpse of Hitler slung over his two shoulders.

Assassin threw his Master down off to the side first. She let out a grunt of pain as she slapped into the rocky ground.

Assassin moved Hitler next. He placed him perfectly in the center of the cave. Assassin’s knife gave off a glint of light as he raised it above his head. A moment later he plunged it into Hitler’s body and cut it open, as if he were performing an autopsy.

Saber could feel the energy buzzing around inside of the incarnated Servant. He could feel it condensing, convulsing, forming into something new. Assassin finished the necessary incantations that Uhlan had told him.

Golden light filled the cave, originating from Hitler’s body.

Assassin stepped back. He looked past Saber, towards his Master. “Well now… it looks like we’re just about finished,” Assassin spoke, moving towards her.

“I’ve decided to spare you...” Assassin said, raising his knife once more, “...from the hellscape I’m about to create.”

His Master didn’t even look perturbed. It was obvious to Saber that she had given up a long time ago. She closed her eyes and turned her head away.

Saber felt that feeling he had gotten before. When he saw Chiaki in trouble. When he saw Trussa was sick. When he first saw Assassin’s Master all tied up in this cave.

But he knew he couldn’t act on that feeling. He would only end up hurting her, or someone else. So he just crouched on the opposite side of the cave and looked away.

A sudden and terrifying sound came ripping through the cave, echoing around a thousand times more powerful inside Saber’s head. Had it not been for Saber’s special protections as a Servant, he wouldn’t have been surprised if his eardrums burst from it. He wasn’t sure what it was at first.

He soon found out.

“Stand away from her,” a voice followed the echoing sound.

Saber looked up towards the cave entrance. The last glows of the sun illuminated a familiar silhouette.

Archer stepped farther into the cave’s darkness, gun drawn on Assassin.

Saber looked over at Assassin, who was now on guard, with his knife being held backwards in some kind of fighting stance.

He briefly wondered if Assassin had dodged the first bullet, or if the leather garment he wore with the hood had blocked it. It had been able to block all of Saber’s strikes… though he was unsure if that was because his strikes were just weak or because the animal hide that Assassin wore was magical in nature somehow.

“Glad you’ve decided to join us, Crazy Horse,” Assassin spoke, straightening himself slightly, but still ready to dodge at any moment.

“You know my name,” Archer stated.

“Of course. Johnny betrayed it to the girl. Really, you should thank me for killing him before he betrayed you further.”

Archer’s gun went off again, but Assassin was already dodging out of the path of the projectile.

“As I thought. I’ve done my research on you, Crazy Horse, and there’s only so much I could learn when it came to how you’ve failed. But in this war? You’ve done nothing  _ but _ fail, haven’t you?”

Saber could see Archer tense up. His normally calm eyes were wide with rage. His hands, and by association the gun, shook alongside it.

He closed his eyes and took a breath. Archer became a blur, and was standing over Assassin’s Master not a moment later, still holding his gun out to Assassin. In a single smooth motion, he took the cloak from his shoulders and laid it over Assassin’s Master.

“But you’re not the only one whose done research, Assassin.”

“Oh? You’ve found out my identity as Robin Hood? Good for you.”

“Remia told me that was your identity, but... I wanted to find your weaknesses. So I went to the Library. And indeed, I found one.”

Assassin did not say anything for a moment. “Really.” His voice was guttural, and dry.

Archer narrowed his eyes at Assassin. “The Heroic Spirit of Assassination in this war is not Robin Hood. But I doubt there is anyone who hates him as you do.”

Assassin clenched his fist. “You…”

“You were a mercenary who wore horse hide and was hired to kill Robin Hood by the Sheriff of Nottingham. You were slain, and Robin Hood cut off your head and removed the face from it, passing off that head as ‘Robin Hood’ in order to collect the reward. Your name was Guy of Gisbourne.”

Assassin growled, but Saber was unsure if it was in anger or in disappointment that he’d been found out.

He reached up and threw his hood off. Saber nearly screamed.

His head was precariously perched on top of a bloody stump that was presumably his neck. His face had been cut off, and a wet, glistening skull, red with blood, looked out at Archer underneath a mop of dirty and bloody hair.

“It still hurts. The sheer pain of it all. And I have to live through it endlessly. I wasn’t just murdered by that bastard, I was made into a Heroic Spirit, because he passed me off as ‘Robin Hood’, a name that was taken by many different people. So when anyone  _ wants _ to summon Robin Hood, they get  _ me _ . And I have to do as they say, ordered around until I die again, over and over, suffering for an eternity because of someone  _ else’s _ legend.”

Assassin lowered his head, but kept his eyes on Archer.

“That’s why I’ll forge a new legend. A legend that will make the name ‘Robin Hood’ an accursed name. I’ll make it unthinkable for anyone to summon that man, I’ll make it a  _ crime _ to even  _ say his name _ . Only then will I finally be able to die.”

Archer only stared calmly at Assassin during all of this. He lowered his weapon and let it fade into spirit form. “Remia was killed. This woman, here, has suffered for days on end. Now, you intend to corrupt Saber as well. I will not let you continue.

A chuckle escaped past his bloody visage. “You don’t have a Master anymore. You think you’ll last long enough to beat me?”

“I’ll last as long as I need to kill you,” Archer replied, summoning his bayonets to his hands.

Assassin titled his head. “Tough luck.” He pulled at the air, and vanished.

Archer shook his head. “No. You aren’t running away this time.”

Mana surged from Archer, and Saber saw the entire world around him bend and distort, like ripples that come from pebbles falling into a puddle.

The world around them became a blurry representation of what it once was. Saber was bewildered by it all. But he was bewildered even more by the sudden reappearance of Assassin, who now wore a strange green cloak around himself now. He looked at it, seemingly in confusion.

“...What?”

“This is the Spirit World.  _ My _ Spirit World. It has existed within me since I first saw it in a dream. It is a world that I learned of my destiny in. It is my greatest Noble Phantasm, the Red-Tailed Hawk Prophecy.”

Archer looked angry again. But this time, he didn’t shake with rage. He was calm.

“I swore that the time I had left in this world would be dedicated to burying and honoring the dead. And I would never be able to say that I honored the man known as Johnny Remia if I were to leave this world without removing you from it first.”

Assassin let the green cloak fall to the ground. He just grunted, dragging his hood back over his face and casting it back into shadow.

They both became blurs at once, and sparks flew as their blades clashed.

* * *

It wasn’t long after Chiaki and Berserker entered the cave that they found the door to Uhlan’s base left wide open, seemingly inviting them in.

Much to their surprise, a maid greeted them. She seemed a bit shy, and bowed to them. In the darkness, Chiaki couldn’t exactly tell how old she was, but her voice sounded rather young. There was a slight distortion to it, but Chiaki had little time to ponder on it before she was being led, alongside Berserker, into the corridors of Uhlan’s base.

_ Do you want to do it now? _ Berserker asked.

_ Not yet. _

_ We may not get a chance later. _

_ I know, but I don’t want to do it in front of the maid, just to be safe. _

_...Did you see her face? _

_ No. Did you? _

Berserker didn’t respond. He continued walking forward grimly.

Chiaki only realized shortly thereafter the oddity of the question.

_...Why did you ask me that? _ she asked.

Berserker still didn’t respond.

“Berserker?” she asked aloud.

He glowered. “Brace yourself.”

They exited the dark metal hallway that they had been walking down and into a surprisingly lush hallway, that was brightly lit by what appeared to be lights designed to look like lanterns. The walls were pristinely white, and the carpet below them was a deep crimson. The hallway itself was ornately designed, with fanciful symbols sculpted in the spaces between paintings.

Now that the lights illuminated the woman in front of them, it didn’t take long for Chiaki to notice that the woman, with the exception of her outfit, appeared to be entirely metal. It still had its back to them, so Chiaki couldn’t see the face, but the… golem, or whatever it was, looked to be a liquid metal formed in the shape of a woman…

The halls split off at several points, and Chiaki momentarily wondered where each one led, but the maid just continued to lead them in a straight line, heading directly for a large set of double doors at the end.

Chiaki had to admit, the whole thing was unnervingly calm. She was marching directly towards the finale like she was about to attend a business meeting. Her heart was pounding faster and faster as they got closer to those doors.

“You alright?” Berserker asked.

Chiaki shrugged. “A bit late to ask. We’re in the lion’s den.”

“I meant if you were handling the strain well.”

“I’ve told you before, the Mana goes  _ through _ me, not  _ from _ me.”

“For now. Who knows how long those Magic Crests will hold out.”

“Just don’t start attacking until absolutely necessary, and we’ll be fine.”

Berserker nodded. “That may be… but no matter what, Chiaki, remember that I’m never far away.”

Chiaki took a deep breath. She was ready. “I know.”

The maid swung the doors wide open, revealing a large room similar in design to the hallway they had just left, only now the carpet was black, and the walls were a deep forest green.

Chiaki had expected Uhlan to be waiting inside, but he wasn’t. The desk where she presumed he would’ve sat at, cluttered with papers and magical-looking items, was empty.

“Master Uhlan will be with you shortly,” the maid spoke reservedly. She turned, and Chiaki gasped, taking a step back. Its face was as metal as its hair.

And it looked exactly like Chiaki.

The maid, paying Chiaki no mind, moved around her. Chiaki only stared as it passed. She felt Berserker’s hand on her shoulder, steadying her. “I wasn’t sure how to tell you.”

She was still in shock. She felt nauseous. She felt angry.

“What are the odds that he only made that thing look like me recently?” Chiaki asked, almost absent-mindedly.

“Not high.”

Chiaki clenched her teeth. “Thought not.”

Turning back to the room around them, Chiaki swallowed the rising anger in her. On the right wall was a large bookcase, with nondescript books of this and that strewn about. It looked to be the typical bookcase for a Magus.

But the left wall told a different story. It was taken up entirely by monitors. Each one displayed a different area of the city. Some were zoomed in and were panning from side to side. Others were zoomed out entirely, remaining static on a wide area. It was obvious to Chiaki that they were all electrical in nature, and not magecraft. There would have been some kind of trace or feeling of Magical Energy otherwise.

“That Mage’s Association wouldn’t approve of that, probably,” Berserker noted, folding his arms.

“He has all the power in the world. I doubt he cares.”

“That begs the question as to why he’s here alone. Disregarding that golem and True Saber.”

“I don’t think  _ I _ care,” Chiaki dismissed, shaking her head. She turned to face the back wall, but something on the floor caught her eye.

There was a window and a short iron pillar. The pillar was topped with that all-too familiar line and loop. It was an Ab Reh Sah. The window, however, was what caught her attention. It showed just a view of the dirt and rock beneath the Mt. Ganz... But she knew, instinctively, as a Magus, that it was more than that.

It was a window looking directly into the Ley Line. She  _ felt _ the Mana coursing in it. It came forward, hit the Ab Reh Sah, and then flowed back, hundreds of times per second. It was like a sped up time-lapse of the ocean’s waves coming in and out.

She felt that she might go mad if she looked at it much longer, so she tore her eyes away from it and up to the back wall, her original target of attention.

She had vaguely seen that it was a portrait of Uhlan and his family. But it didn’t look quite right. There was something off about it.

“By Zeus…” Berserker murmured.

Chiaki looked at him, and saw him staring at the same portrait. “What is it?”

There was a serious look on Berserker’s face. Amazed, confused, worried. It was all there. “I didn’t think it was possible...”

Chiaki looked back at it, restudying it. “What?”

In the foreground was Kayneth Archibald, dressed in his usual garb. He looked out with an emotionless smile, and almost dead eyes.

Next to him was a woman with red hair, the same color as Uhlan’s. She remembered her somewhat indistinctly as Sola-Ui Nuada-Re Sophia-Re Archibald, Kayneth’s wife. She couldn’t remember exactly, but she passed away when Uhlan was young. She was young and pretty, and seemed to be in good health, despite her similarly expressionless face. Chiaki wondered why she wasn’t smiling.

And then in the background was Uhlan, standing off-center and behind Kayneth with a single hand resting on Kayneth’s chair. Of the three, he was the only one smiling.

But Uhlan was an adult in this painting. Sola-Ui would’ve been dead.

And then it hit her. That wasn’t Uhlan. That wasn’t Uhlan at all.

He looked exactly like Uhlan. But his wavy hair, though similar in its form, was jet black instead of red. A single strand of that hair dropped between his eyes, which were gold instead of grey. He was more muscular, and wore a forest green garment, similar to the color of the room they were in.

It was uncanny how much he and Uhlan look alike. They had the same gaze. The same smile.

They even had the exact same mole directly under their right eye.

By his side hung two swords. One red, the other gold. It was Kayneth’s Saber-class Servant from the previous war. Her father had said his name but once before, and she had long since forgotten it.

“Diarmuid Ua Duibhne,” Uhlan spoke, startling Chiaki. She and Berserker turned, with Berserker stepping in between her and Uhlan before anything else happened.

He stood in the doorway, with True Saber to his right, and the metal golem-maid to his left.

Now that he was once again in front of them, Chiaki could confirm that Uhlan and the Servant in the portrait looked extremely alike.

Presently, Uhlan was gazing past them and to the painting behind them. “I kept it as a reminder of where I really came from. Kayneth wasn’t my father. Not by blood, and certainly not by bond. The only inheritance I accept is this…” Uhlan spoke, raising his red cane up.

“Made from the same spearhead they used to summon  _ him _ . During the previous war, his presence activated it’s powers as a Noble Phantasm. I’ve inherited a singular Spiritual Core from Diarmuid, enough to have the spearhead recognize me as its Master.”

Uhlan, for the first time since entering the room, looked at them. “You can’t imagine my anger when I found all this out. But I’m thankful for it. That anger broke me from my fear. I confronted Kayneth and finally saw him as the filth that he was. I killed him. That night was a victory of mine that had no equal...”

His eyes dropped to the ground, and he returned the cane to his side. “...followed by an action so horrid that my shame of that night also has no equal. A shame that no victory could ever reconcile.”

Chiaki had had enough. But her mouth wouldn’t move. It trembled at the thought of Uhlan being overcome with sadness.

She looked away. “Berserker…” she whispered.

Berserker nodded. “We’ve heard enough,” he announced.

Uhlan looked up, slightly perturbed.

“You can talk all you like about how sorry you are, but I’ve known better liars than you, and I happen to be an expert at lying to oneself. Order your Servant to attack so we can finish this,” Berserker commanded, getting into a fighting pose.

Uhlan just stared at him for a moment, expressionless. He eventually raised an eyebrow and smiled. “Sending yourself to death so quickly? Well, at least you’ve come to your senses about what's best for Chiaki.”

Berserker suddenly reached over to his forearm and ripped the Ariadne Thread off his arm.

Berserker’s face clouded over with madness. Mana exploded out from him, and both he and True Saber tore down the hallway of the base, completely destroying the passage and making their own passages as they went. The whole base started to shake from their battle.

* * *

True Saber was taken unawares at first. Berserker was much faster right now than he had ever seen him move before. Berserker’s first strike cracked True Saber’s armor and blasted apart the walls behind him, causing the mountain shake around them. As a result from the blow, True Saber went catapulting back into the chasm that now existed there.

_ Curious _ , True Saber noted.

He flipped in the air and saw Berserker coming for the follow up strike. True Saber was fast enough to raise his blade and intercept Berserker’s incoming sloppy strike, locking his wrist between the blade and the pommel of True Saber’s sword. He twisted on his foot, and spun around several times before launching Berserker full speed at the wall behind him.

True Saber flipped his blade and prepared a follow-up attack to Berserker’s inevitable counter, but no such counter came.

Instead, Berserker just twirled, end over end, until he blasted out of the mountain and into the forest.

True Saber tilted his head.  _ The Mad Enhancement has reduced his mind incapable of any technique or strategy. _

True Saber might’ve been disappointed. Berserker had shown incredible fighting prowess from what he had seen, but he traded out his intelligence and skill for raw power, which was ultimately nullified by their skill gap. He had thrown away his one chance at victory.

Wings of light sprouted from True Saber’s back, and he followed Berserker outside, to the forest. He could see Berserker clear as day as he righted himself. Berserker started to lunge for True Saber, but he was ready for him.

True Saber wasn’t taking any chances. He was going to take Berserker apart, bit by bit, until his strength meant nothing.

The wide punch that Berserker threw arced through the air at True Saber’s head. True Saber sliced his blade upwards, severing Berserker’s arm easily and cleanly.

Blood spurted from the wound, and Berserker recoiled which allowed True Saber to move forward and take Berserker’s eyes from him with another slash of his sword.

Berserker wildly swung his good arm at True Saber, but he slipped around it and thrust his sword into Berserker’s leg, pinning it to the ground. True Saber then threw out a kick, crashing it into Berserker’s other leg at the knee. It snapped sideways, breaking his leg.

Berserker brought his arm around again, trying to backhand True Saber. True Saber ducked under it and punched Berserker in his throat, crushing his windpipe and esophagus. True Saber jumped and spun, throwing a heavy kick into Berserker that rocketed him back once more, his leg ripping through True Saber’s sword as he flung backwards. The force of his movement caused the Earth to bend underneath them, and trees were unearthed and projected into the air.

True Saber picked up his sword with his offhand and then tossed it to his dominant hand as he slowly walked towards Berserker again.

Berserker was a bloody mess, barely holding himself together. Neither of his legs functioned, yet he worked to stand anyway. His loss of sight made it impossible for him to know exactly where True Saber was. Even if he somehow learned, his one arm was only capable of so much. He was no longer a threat.

Berserker tumbled to his knees again, and began to crawl towards True Saber, the look of insanity on his face promising True Saber a battle to the death.

True Saber rose into the air. If Berserker could no longer dodge, then he’d defeat him here, and keep his suffering to a minimum.

“Unlocking the first seal. Ascending to the Second Heaven. Achieving  _ Raqia _ ,” True Saber announced. He felt power surge from his blade. He raised it above his head.

Berserker roared at him. But his eyes were not focusing on him.

True Saber titled his head. Berserker was looking at something behind him. Only Mt. Ganz was behind him…

But his Master was there as well. True Saber looked Berserker in his eyes. Madness clouded them, but… there was something else. A yearning, maybe.

Maybe Berserker was saying goodbye. He truly did care for that girl.

“No harm will come to her. I promise you that,” True Saber spoke.

He brought his sword down. “Amen.”

The light shot down at Berserker and consumed him, engulfing him in the purest light. His flesh was incinerated, and his Spiritual Core broke and disappeared. The resulting explosion formed a charred black crater.

The forest was silent afterwards.

True Saber stood alone in that silence. Perhaps this was the way the Universe chose to send off such a brave warrior…

No… there was something… something that interrupted the silence. True Saber listened for it.

And he soon realized that he was not alone.

True Saber turned. A fist smashed into his face, cracking the armor there and throwing him into the smoking crater he had just created. True Saber righted himself and landed, sliding to a stop.

Who else was out here with him?

His belt and sword illuminated the darkness in time for him to see a large man with red eyes and golden hair jump out at him, his face contorted in madness.

It was Berserker, with all his limbs and eyes intact. For the first time in the war, True Saber froze.

_ That is not _ -

His thoughts were interrupted by Berserker punching him in the side of the head once more, breaking his mask further, and catapulting him to the side.

True Saber rolled and slid along the ground before scrambling to his feet. Berserker was on him immediately, throwing another titanic strike. True Saber lifted his arm and wrapped it around the incoming blow. Quickly, True Saber stepped in and twisted, flipping Berserker over his shoulder and slamming him into the ground, damaging the earth and forest around them further.

True Saber locked Berserker’s arm in place and pointed his sword at Berserker’s throat. “How are you alive?” he asked.

Berserker responded by howling and easily throwing True Saber away from him with his single arm, overpowering True Saber’s hold with strength alone.

True Saber flipped in the air and landed. He refocused. He had just defeated Berserker… whether this one was an illusion, or the previous one was, it didn’t matter.

He beat him once. He’d do it again. He’d do it as many times as necessary.


	24. Understanding

The rumbling of the Earth was not felt by Archer and Assassin.

Assassin’s slash was intercepted by Archer’s bayonet. Archer quickly followed up his parry by swinging his other bayonet around at Assassin’s head. Assassin let the blow bounce off his hood and spun, closing in to Archer and stabbing him in the gut. Archer was able to backstep away from the strike, so it wasn’t deep, but blood still spilled from the line in his stomach.

“That animal skin you wear… horse hide,” Archer spoke, taking a moment to recuperate.

“That’s what you said, isn’t it? It’s the only Noble Phantasm that can be said to belong to ‘Guy of Gisbourne’ and not ‘Robin Hood’. The Capull-Hyde. It is immune to blows of C-Rank and below. As an Archer, I can’t imagine your Strength being better than that.”

Archer dipped his head, thinking. One of his bayonets disappeared, being replaced by his gun, which he pointed one-handedly at Assassin.

The shot missed, as Assassin had already been moving to avoid it.

“Tch. Such loud instruments. You think I’d let myself get hit by something so inefficient?”

“You will come to regret calling the instrument of your demise ‘inefficient’.”

“You place your faith in a gun? No wonder you died so pathetically.”

Archer took off, stabbing at Assassin’s shadowed face, causing him to move his head to the side. Archer was ahead, and aimed the gun underneath his other arm directly at Assassin’s body.

Assassin kicked the gun away and returned with his own slash that barely missed Archer, who jumped to avoid it, going over Assassin’s head.

He slashed downwards at Assassin, but Assassin intercepted the attack. Archer took advantage by ramming the gun into Assassin’s face, making him stagger.

Archer fired, point-blank into Assassin’s face. Assassin’s head jerked to the side. Archer couldn’t tell if he had hit Assassin or not, but the second his feet touched the ground, he stabbed his bayonet at Assassin’s head, just to ensure he was dead.

Assassin bent backwards suddenly, letting the blade pass over him. He kicked out, slamming a heavy boot into Archer’s gut.

Archer slid back, taking some distance, but-

Pain exploded into Archer’s neck. The bolt from Assassin’s crossbow ripped his flesh out, and blood spurted onto the ground around him.

For a moment, Archer couldn’t breath. He reached up and placed his hand over the new wound, but blood still escaped past his fingers. It was just a graze, but the power of the crossbow still inflicted a grievous wound.

Archer didn’t react fast enough as Assassin then stabbed him in his gut. This one was much deeper.

Archer grunted in pain and tried to attack while Assassin was close. Assassin caught his wrist and twisted, wrenching the bayonet out of his hand.

Archer whipped his gun around, but Assassin headbutted Archer, staggering him back, which gave Assassin enough room to kick the gun out of his hand.

Assassin pressed forward, pushing Archer into the wall and driving the knife deeper into Archer. Archer’s insides burnt with more hot pain as Assassin twisted his knife slowly into him, causing Archer to cry out.

“So you  _ can _ actually feel something? I wasn’t sure if you were pretending before or not. After all, if  _ this _ is all you can do to honor Johnny, he must’ve not meant a whole lot to you.”

Archer spat out blood onto Assassin’s hidden face.

Assassin chuckled and pulled his knife out by ripping it through Archer’s side. More blood poured out onto the ground.

Archer fell to the ground in a heap. He couldn’t stand. He could feel all the Mana he had leaving him. He couldn’t die here, not like this. He couldn’t let himself die to such a ruthless man.

His eyes spotted something off to the side. The woman was there. Assassin’s Master. Her eyes… there was something alive in them. Her hands and feet looked weak but… she was reaching out.

She had taken hold of Archer’s gun.

Archer breathed out. The world around them solidified, and cleared. The ambient noise of the cave, and of a battle raging in the forest came to them.

“Deactivating your Noble Phantasm? Or is it that you can’t keep it up anymore? Fighting without a Master is harder than you thought, eh?” Assassin mocked, taking a few steps back while putting his knife away and taking his crossbow with both hands.

The Master pushed herself up against the wall of the cavern, gripping the gun with both hands. It didn’t look like she was that familiar with firearms… Archer decided that he needed to give her time.

Archer pushed himself off the ground and onto his knees. “I… am… not… done…” Archer groaned.

Assassin loaded a bolt into his crossbow. “I know.”

His head shifted slightly, but Archer could not tell where he was looking. If he shifted his head even slightly more… he would be able to see his Master with the gun.

“Look… look at me…” Archer snarled, trying to get to his feet.

Assassin snickered and shook his head. “You heroes. You always have to die so dramatically,” he ridiculed. “It’s a shame my Master summoned me instead of you. I’m sure she’d be much more impressed by your heroics than I am.”

The Master looked to be fiddling with the gun, trying to cock it.

She unfortunately succeeded, and the loud metallic click of the weapon echoed throughout the cavern. The Master froze in terror.

Archer tried to leap forward as Assassin began to turn his head towards the origin of the noise, but his legs were slow and tired. He wouldn’t make it in time...

“Assassin!” Saber, who Archer had forgotten was sitting off to the side, suddenly called out.

Assassin whipped around, pointing the crossbow at Saber, who recoiled. “It’s her! She has the gun!” Saber cried.

Assassin turned, but by then, Archer was leaping forward and grabbing onto him. Archer found his strength failing him and Assassin threw him to the ground easily. Assassin aimed his crossbow over at the Master, and her eyes widened in dread as she scrambled to aim her own weapon at Assassin.

Assassin pulled his trigger first. Archer barely reacted in time, opening up a portal into the Spirit World directly in front of Assassin’s crossbow. The bolt flew forward and disappeared into a shimmer of light.

The Master pulled her trigger. The sound ripped through the air. A small burst of blood came from Assassin’s shoulder.

She had missed his head.

Assassin growled in pain and started to load another bolt. Archer grabbed his bayonet and threw it at Assassin. It pierced into his unprotected arm, and Assassin howled, more in surprise than pain, but he dropped the crossbow nonetheless. He pulled the bayonet out of his arm as the Master tried to reload and cock the gun once more. Her shaky hands fumbled the gun, dropping it onto the floor in front of her.

Assassin raised the bayonet over his head, and Archer raised his hand to stop it. Assassin rammed the bayonet through Archer’s hand and into his stomach. Archer shouted in pain and tried to wrestle it out of himself.

The Master had picked up the gun and was now fighting to cock it. Assassin, in the meantime, brought out his knife once more, turning to the Master. Seeing the gun she held, he glowered. A moment later, he pulled his green cloak out of Spirit Form and wrapped it around himself, disappearing.

The Master brought the gun up, ready to fire. But Assassin was already gone.

Archer’s hand slipped off the bayonet, as it was covered in blood. He tightened his grip and excruciatingly pulled it from himself, slowly.

The Master’s eyes darted around the room, trying to see if there was any indication of where Assassin was going to strike from. There wasn’t, from what Archer could tell.

The Master suddenly closed her eyes.

Archer had successfully pulled the bayonet halfway out of himself. He still had a long way to go, and the pain was only worsening as he advanced.

She opened her eyes, some strange focus to them. She aimed as if she could see him.

Archer only now realized that she could. She was his Master, her Master’s eye would tell her his location whether he was visible or not.

She started moving the gun around wildly. Archer could only guess that she was trying to guess where he’d dodge. Without enhanced speed, she had no chance…

Archer let out a cry of pain as he fully, and finally, pulled the bayonet from himself. He was drained… but he had enough left in him to see this through.

Archer flipped, and using the bayonet as a crutch, began to drag himself along the rocky ground towards the Master and where he presumed Assassin was.

As if on cue, the gun was smacked out of the Master’s hand. Assassin had closed the distance and disarmed her. Fear spread onto her face one more time.

Archer was determined to make it the last time.

Based on where the gun was flung from and the direction it took, Archer could tell that Assassin was standing directly in front of the Master now. He forced his muscles to work, leaping at where he determined Assassin was by pushing off the bayonet. But he didn’t try to grab on to Assassin. He opened a portal into the Spirit World and reached his hand into the space where Assassin was.

And then he opened a second portal leading out of the Spirit World directly inside Assassin. He grabbed onto something, anything, and started to pull it out.

Assassin began screaming in pain. His cloak fell off him, revealing that Archer was reaching into a portal located in Assassin's back. Assassin started stabbing wildly behind him at Archer.

Archer held on and pulled.

The blade stabbed Archer through his cheek.

Archer held on and pulled.

It pierced his shoulder and neck.

Archer held on and pulled.

He gave one last titanic cry and ripped the thing out of Assassin. A bubbling ball of red energy. His heart, and Spiritual Core.

Archer fell to the ground, still holding onto it.

Assassin turned, the only wound visible on him was the one on his arm. He fell to his knees, struggling to breath as he reached for the core in Archer’s hand.

Archer just let the core fall and roll deeper into the cave.

“No…” Assassin wheezed, desperately crawling for it. “You bastard… you can’t…”

His form started to disintegrate into mud and shadow as he slithered over the ground toward the core.

“Not me… I…”

He reached as far as he could, and his hand scraped the core, but it turned to mush and flitted away into nothingness.

“I could’ve… been free…” Assassin rasped. He melted fully, and disappeared.

Archer turned his head, looking at the Master. She was still leaned up against the wall, covered in Archer’s Bloody Cloak. She was shaking, and breathing heavily.

“Are you alright?” Archer asked.

For the first time by Archer’s recollection, she looked at him. Tears formed in her eyes. Her eyes wavered, and she shook her head.  _ No. _

He pulled himself toward her. He forced his legs to move, to pick the rest of his body up. He didn’t know how long it took him. Time seemed to be moving differently. Each second seemed like an hour.

He was dying. He didn’t have much time. But he knew Remia was going to chew him out if he didn’t make sure the girl would be okay.

He struggled to his feet. “Can you stand?” he asked. He wasn’t sure if he asked her or himself. Either way, she responded with a silent stare.

Archer nodded. “Then I will carry you.”

He leaned down and picked her up. She was light. Far lighter than he remembered humans being. She felt weak, and thin.

He turned, and started walking out of the cave, each of his wounds stabbing at him, taunting him. Daring him to drop her.

A golden light stopped him, originating from behind him somewhere. He turned to look at it.

The Final Holy Grail floated in the middle of the cave.

Archer was stunned at first. It was here. The dead man who had been shining… he was the vessel for the Holy Grail. And now enough Servants had died for it to manifest.

But he felt the Master cling to him.

He turned to leave the cave, and saw Saber, still huddled in a corner, staring at him. The golden light of the grail shone in Saber’s eyes.

They were pleading.  _ Go on, take it, _ they said.  _ Take it and stop me. _

Archer betrayed no emotion. Saber had sat there and done nothing to help this woman in his arms. Now he wanted Archer to take the Grail, not to reward Archer, but to end Saber’s own misery.

Archer shook his head and turned fully to the entrance of the cave. “You were always a coward. Do it yourself.”

Archer struggled out of the cave without another word.

* * *

Berserker’s face clouded over with madness. Mana exploded out from him, and both he and True Saber tore down the hallway of the base, completely destroying the passage and making their own passages as they went. The whole base started to shake from their battle.

Chiaki immediately raised her hand. “Now, Berserker! Use your Noble Phantasm!”

The Command Seal on her hand flashed, and a red energy wave pulsed out before disappearing.

Uhlan smirked. “Making him go all out from the start... you were always the smart one..”

“I’ve gotten even smarter.”

Dropping his smile, Uhlan took a few more steps into his office. “I can tell by your tone that you haven’t forgiven me. That’s to be expected. I don’t expect to ever be forgiven entirely. However, I do have a plan to make an attempt at an apology.”

“You think I  _ want _ an apology?”

“You’ve yet to see it. I’ve spent five long years searching for a way to try and make it up to you. I knew where you were most of the time, I just never approached you because I knew you wouldn’t want to see me. But I’ve found the answer. The perfect way to show you just how truly sorry I am.”

Chiaki clenched her teeth. “You’re not sorry. You don’t care that you hurt me.”

Uhlan furrowed his brow, incensed.

Seeing that only fueled Chiaki to go further. “You’ve been pushed down your whole life by Kayneth. When you finally killed him, you got to see yourself for the first time. And you realized you were exactly like him. So you come pretending to be sorry just to lie to yourself because you can’t stand the idea that Kayneth still has an influence on you, even now.”

Uhlan’s eyes grew hard, and his foot started tapping. “Chiaki, I know it's hard to accept the idea that I’m not as evil as you think, but-”

“ _ Hard to accept _ ?” Chiaki spat. “You murder my father, rape me, torture me for  _ years _ on end as I try to come to terms with my own feelings, and then you pop up out of nowhere, trying to tell me you’re some poor redemption-seeking soul who spent ‘five long years’ trying to come up with a way to redeem yourself? All you’ve thought about is  _ you _ , and how you can redeem yourself in your  _ own _ eyes.”

Uhlan was shaking with what Chiaki assumed to be rage. She didn’t care. Uhlan continued, pushing his tage down. “I’m not saying the past five years weren’t hard on you either, I’m saying that you aren’t the only one to regret that night,” he protested, taking more steps towards Chiaki.

Her fist moved on its own. It swung around and slammed into his jaw, ripping his head sideways. Uhlan twirled back as Chiaki withdrew her fist. He had dropped his cane on the ground between them, and was now holding his jaw as blood seeped out of his mouth.

“Then what the  _ hell _ is  _ that _ ?” Chiaki shouted, pointing at the metal golem that looked like her. “You make  _ that thing _ look like me, and you didn’t think that  _ maybe _ I might have an issue with it? That it might disturb me? I don’t believe for a single  _ second _ that you regret what happened that night, you just regret that I rejected you because of it.”

Uhlan looked at her in total shock. He wiped the blood from his mouth. “You… what’s wrong with you? You’ve never talked like this to me. You didn’t lay a  _ hand _ on me…”

Chiaki kept her urge to start shouting at him again contained. She reached up and unbuttoned a single button of her shirt and pulled her collar open slightly. By now, he was seeing the gold string that was wrapped around her entire torso underneath her shirt.

“That golden string Berserker had around his arm? It can be broken apart, it's just that its effect only stays with the largest piece. And the part he ripped off? That  _ used _ to be the longest piece. Long story short, it keeps your little ‘love spell’ from working on me. So, for the first time ever, you’re meeting the real ‘Chiaki Nakazawa’.”

Lightning curled around her hands as she brought them into a fighting pose. “So let’s get  _ real _ acquainted.”

Uhlan stared at her hands. Then he stared at her. “Love… spell?”

Chiaki shook her head. She was tired of having to play games with him. He knew what he did. Chiaki dashed forward, throwing a hard right fist directly at Uhlan’s still disconcerted face.

And then she saw herself standing in the way, blocking the attack. The maid had jumped in the way, catching her fist. Unlike when they had interacted when she arrived, the maid had no emotion on her face.

Chiaki, angered, poured more Mana into her fist, increasing the intensity of electricity, but the maid remained stone faced. That angered Chiaki even more.

She tried to force her way forward, but when that didn’t work, she threw her other hand into the face of the maid. However, that hand, too, was caught by it.

“This golem was made from the Volumen Hydrargyrum, the most powerful Mystic Code that Kayneth possessed,” Uhlan explained. “Its defense is impenetrable.”

“Shut up!” she roared. She pulled back and thought briefly about pulling Remia’s gun from her back pocket. She resisted, barely. She didn’t want to reveal it yet.

“I don’t know what makes you think I cast a love spell on you, but I assure you I did no such thing. I would  _ never _ have done anything like that to you.”

“Really? Love curses are too far, but rape is on the table?” Chiaki growled.

Uhlan’s intense stare grew even more intense. “I’m telling you, I wasn’t in my right mind that night-”

“ _ STOP TALKING _ !” she screamed, lunging forward again. But again, the maid blocked her attacks. Her fury grew to new heights.

She began wailing on the maid as hard as she could, who stood and calmly blocked her attacks, over and over again. She let loose harder, faster punches.

“ _ I PROTECTED YOU FOR YEARS! _ ” she bellowed. “ _ IN MY HEAD, I SIDED WITH YOU AND I HATED MYSELF FOR IT! ALL BECAUSE OF YOU! _ ”

More. She needed more power. She borrowed more from the Magic Crests. She had to.

She kept punching and screaming. Her fists began to bleed. She kept going.

“ _ HOW DARE YOU! HOW DARE YOU COME BACK! _ ” she wailed, tears beginning to fall from her eyes.

She kept punching for as long as she could… but she had to stop eventually. She dropped to her knees, exhausted. Her voice was hoarse from screaming. Her fists tired from hitting.

The maid stood over her, unflinching. Chiaki could only look down as the tears blurred her vision.

She hated herself. She was too weak. She couldn't do it. She couldn’t get to him. The gun wouldn’t help. It would just bounce harmlessly off the golem. He was too powerful, and he hadn’t even begun fighting yet. It was hopeless.

But there was a red blotch in her vision. She blinked away the tears for a moment. That's when she saw it.

There were two red things in her sight. The first, was the single remaining Command Seal on her hand. It resembled a sun or star, she supposed. The outer layers of the star had been used and left only the core. She was still a Master. Berserker was still with her. Berserker wouldn’t give up. Neither would she.

And furthermore, she saw the object with which she could proceed. The second red thing in her sight...

Uhlan’s cane was on the floor in front of her.

_ Made from the same spearhead they used to summon him _ , Uhlan had said.

Chiaki searched her memory, desperately trying to remember everything her father had ever said about Kayneth’s Saber-class servant.

_ A hero of Irish Mythology. He actually fought with a spear and a sword at the same time but when summoned… _

No, not that… she needed something else.

_ He had a rather rare skill called ‘Mystic Face’, specifically a ‘Mystic Face of Charm’ called... _

Not that either. Come on, dad, what did the  _ spear _ do?

_ The relic we used to summon him is actually a fragment of the spearhead of one of his spears. It nullifies any magecraft it comes into contact with. _

That! That was it! The cane… Uhlan didn’t say it had the same abilities, but the way he held it…

Regardless, it was the only chance she had to move forward.

“I can’t stop you if you choose to keep attacking me like this…” Uhlan spoke softly, “But I don’t want to see you hurt, either.”

Chiaki let out a disdainful laugh. “A little late for that.”

She snatched up the cane and shot to her feet, swinging it at Uhlan. The golem was still in her way, but as it reached out to try and stop her, the cane slammed into it. Chiaki felt mana surge from the cane and the metal golem buckled, as if it were just water. It melted into a puddle, and the uniform it had worn fell with it, letting Chiaki step toward the confused Uhlan with another strike prepared.

“Chi-” he was cut off by the strike to his face. This time, he spun onto the ground, face-first.

“I don’t want to-” Chiaki kicked him, and beat him with the cane a few more times, during which he raised his hands in self-defence, but it did him little good.

“Please, just list-” Chiaki dropped on top of him, grabbing hold of the cane with both hands and shoving it, length-wise, into his throat. He pinned him to the ground and put all her weight onto the cane, trying her best to strangle him.

The fact that she had gotten this close to Uhlan… the fact that she was now strangling him… it was satisfying to a degree that Chiaki had never experienced before. With each passing second, she grew more and more comfortable with what she was doing.

It occurred to her that this idiot didn’t want to kill her. That was why he was just staring up at her as he struggled to breathe. He could reach out a hand to try and stop her, to push her off him. But he wasn’t. It was like he wanted to die.

Well, that was fine with Chiaki.

Uhlan started kicking his legs, perhaps involuntarily, as he struggled for air. He’d be dead soon. But no… she’d have to keep choking him long after he passed out for that to happen like this.

Luckily, she had a tool for this occasion.

She let go of the cane with one hand, but kept it pressed against his chin. He’d be able to breathe, but she’d have it close by in case he tried something. Uhlan coughed as he was ‘released’, and desperately sucked in the air around him.

With her new free hand, she reached back and grabbed Remia’s gun. She pulled it out, turned the safety off and pointed the barrel at his forehead.

Uhlan just stared at her. There was fear in his eyes. That was good. Chiaki wanted him to be afraid when she killed him.

...

_ Wait. What? _

She was going to kill him. She was… going to kill him?

She had been wronged. The man responsible was pinned and powerless beneath her and she had a gun to his head. She could pull the trigger at any time, and end his life.

And he just stared at her, unmoving. Why? Why wasn’t he fighting? Why wasn’t he taunting her, or telling her the horrible things he was going to do to her? Why was he…

Why was he just staring at her, waiting to die?

His eyes were so unfocused. They were looking at Chiaki, but they were… empty.

The mole under his right eye. She had always thought it was cute. It was the same one that Diarmuid had.

_...a ‘Mystic Face of Charm’ called the Love Spot. _

No. His eyes…

_ I’ve inherited a singular Spiritual Core from Diarmuid, enough to have the spearhead recognize me as its Master _ .

His eyes weren’t filled with despair or fear, but confusion. He didn’t know. He didn’t understand.

_ It was at that very first meeting, she remembered, that she fell in love with him. _

He had no idea that  _ he _ had the Love Spot, too.

His whole life, every woman he ever met fell in love with him. He had no frame of reference for it, he just  _ had _ it. He just thought that how those women acted was how they were  _ supposed _ to act.

Chiaki furrowed her brow. This wasn’t right. She wasn’t supposed to be pitying him. She had the Ariadne Thread, she was free from that. She didn’t have to love him.

And she didn’t love him. She was disgusted and repulsed by him.

But… she pitied him, too. He didn’t understand.

What happened to her… to her father… she’d never forgive him. She’d never forget it. She’d live with it forever.

But she didn’t have to let it  _ define _ her, either. She was more than that. She was more than just a bad memory.

Chiaki may not know who she was… but she knew that she wasn’t a killer. Even a killer of people that deserve to die.

Chiaki clenched her jaw. It was the Love Spot that started all this. What Uhlan did was still his fault. But it wouldn’t have happened the way it did without that thing.

She looked at the cane. It still had a point at the end. It was far from a spearhead, but she’d have to make due.

With the gun still placed against his head, she placed the pointed end of the cane at the space beneath his right eye, where the Love Spot resided. She lifted the gun away from his face and then slammed the flat end of the cane, ripping it through Uhlan’s flesh and tearing out the Love Spot.

Chiaki felt Mana surge from the spear as it sliced through the Love Spot, destroying it. Uhlan only reacted slightly, stifling a cry of pain. The blood and flesh from the thing fell limply to the ground beside his head.

The second that she ensured that the Love Spot had been carved off him, she re-aimed the gun at him.

She stood up, the gun never losing its target. Her hands shook as she slowly took the cane away from his neck. He could only stare at her, blood running down the side of his face, that confusion still present. She stepped away from him.

“Get up,” she ordered.

Uhlan struggled to stand, his hands going to his throat. “Than-”

“Don’t speak. I don’t want to hear it,” Chiaki growled, shifting her feet as she made sure there was ample room between herself and Uhlan.

“Turn around and leave. I don’t care where you go, or what you do, but if I  _ ever _ hear of you or see you again, I  _ will _ end you, do you understand me?” Chiaki commanded, putting her heart into every word.

Uhlan swallowed. He opened his mouth to speak, but stopped. His eyes focused on her for the first time. She could see him resist the urge to smile. He turned, and slowly walked out of the room and down the hallway.

Chiaki kept her eyes locked on him down the barrel of Remia’s gun until she saw him leave from the base and into the cave, disappearing from her sight.

The gun fell from her hands and she crumpled to her knees. Tears spilled from her eyes. It was over. She’d done it.

She fell forward, her forehead hit the ground and she started to cry.

She never wanted to kill him. She wanted to just get him out of her head. And he was gone. And she never had to think about him again. She was free.

Sobs shook her whole body. Right now, she wanted nothing more than for Berserker to come and hug her. So many people were gone. Her dad, Remia, Archer, Tohsaka, Agnes, and soon...

Berserker.

Chiaki lifted herself off the ground, brushing the tears out of her eyes and sniffling. That’s right. Their work wasn’t done. Berserker was still fighting.

She looked down at the Command Seal on her hand. She ran her fingers over it. After this… it was over. But it needed to happen. True Saber needed to be defeated. They were so close to the Grail now… it just required one more move on their part.

She unbuttoned her shirt entirely and slid it off herself, then she unwrapped the Ariadne Thread that encased her torso.

She lifted her hand. “Berserker, by order of Command Seal… come to me.”

In a flash of red light, Berserker, still Mad Enhanced, teleported into the room. He looked at her. Quickly, she reached out the Thread and wrapped it around one of his wrists.

The insanity in his eyes cleared away. He blinked and looked around the room for a moment. His eyes moved from the puddle of metallic liquid on the ground, to the blood and flesh on the floor nearby, to Chiaki.

He smiled. “You did it.”

Chiaki smiled back at him and, in order to prevent him from seeing the tears that started to come down her face, she wrapped her arms around him, not even coming close to being able to completely encircle him with her arms.

Berserker put his arms around her, engulfing her almost entirely. “I’m proud of you.”

After a moment, Berserker broke off the hug and knelt down, wrapping the rest of the Ariadne Thread around his forearm. “Unfortunately, we can’t relax just yet. True Saber is still out there.”

“So it worked? Your Noble Phantasm?”

Berserker glanced at her with a beaming smile. “Like a charm. He never suspected anything. He might still not. But who knows how long it’ll keep him distracted. What about you? Still handling it okay?”

Chiaki shrugged. “Can’t really tell… but the Magic Crests have handled it so far.”

Berserker took a moment to look around her to her back. “They’re…”

Chiaki furrowed her brow. “They’re what?”

“They’re gone. All but one. They’ve been used up.”

“Which one’s left?”

Berserker arched his eyebrow at her as he looked at her. “The small and pathetic one.”

Chiaki shook her head and tried to slap him. He dodged, of course.

“But even  _ that _ was flickering. There’s not much time before it blows through whatever power that Crest has in it and then starts relying on you. Now that I’ve got  _ this _ back, though…” Berserker smirked, nodding to the Ariadne Thread. He tied a knot at his elbow, completing his weave. He rolled his wrist around, making sure he had ample movement.

Chiaki took a moment to admire him. In spite of everything she knew about him… for a moment, and just for a moment…

He really did look like the mightiest hero of Greece.

Berserker looked back at her and gave her a wink before standing up, turning on his heel, and bolting out the door.

* * *

None of this made sense.

True Saber had killed Berserker three times now. The first time, he had incinerated him, the second time, he had beheaded him, and the third time he had ripped out his Spiritual Core and crushed it himself. Every time he did so, the body and the core would fade away into golden dust.

And yet Berserker stood before him yet again. It wasn’t possible.

They had been fighting for quite a while now, and Berserker had gotten a few good hits in. It wasn’t enough to cause any  _ real _ damage, but his armor was beginning to break down.

True Saber stood his ground as he stared Berserker down across the wasteland that was once a forest. Behind him, there were still about a half-mile of trees that separated the wasteland from the town, but the destroyed area in which he now stood reached almost all the way to the cave entrance on the side of the mountain.

Though, there was a second hole leading into the base below that now, the one that True Saber had created when he threw Berserker out the  _ first _ time.

And he saw a golden glow come from that second cavern. He tilted his head as, over the shoulder of Berserker, he saw something very unusual exit from under the mountain.

He saw two more Berserkers. One was just as insane as the other Berserkers he had killed, as well as the one in front of him. But the other one looked quite sane and had that golden string around one of his forearms. They both ran out from under the mountain and stopped, lining up with the Berserker in front of him.

That made three in total.

“Not bad. You killed three of them,” the one sane Berserker spoke, cracking his knuckles.

“...How?” True Saber asked, unmoving.

Berserker smirked. “A little confusing, huh? I apologize, I needed to lend this golden string to a friend of mine, so I had to distract you for a little while until I could get it back. I have two Noble Phantasms, you see. The first, you see here, is the Ariadne Thread. I bet you can tell what it does already. My  _ second _ Noble Phantasm, however, is a bit more complicated. It's not something I like to bring out, for the sake of my Master.”

True Saber lifted his head slightly, keeping his eyes on the two insane Berserkers. “And what Noble Phantasm allows you to conjure up copies of yourself?”

“God Hand: The Six Labours. It only allows me to replicate myself five times. With myself, that makes six. You’d have to defeat me six times in order to truly kill me. Unfortunately, since it summons all five at once, the strain it puts on my Master increases proportionally.”

True Saber gripped his sword a little tighter. “And I’ve already killed three of you. Do you think the three of you are enough to defeat me?”

Berserker laughed. “Of course not. I only need  _ one _ of me to defeat you. However…”

Berserker got into his fighting stance. “We’re a bit short on time. It’s regrettable I won’t be able to enjoy this fight  _ fully _ , but-”

True Saber launched himself forward, trying to take Berserker’s throat out immediately.

Berserker saw it coming, and slid under it. His fists rocked True Saber’s head back. His blows weren’t as powerful as his ‘insane counterparts’… but they were  _ far _ more precise. He was targeting the cracks in his armor that the other Berserkers had made.

The two mad Berserkers by his side converged on True Saber, swinging their arms wildly. True Saber ducked and tripped one, while slicing the chest of the other one, forcing him back.

The sane Berserker threw out a kick, smashing into True Saber’s face yet again, and throwing him backwards. True Saber righted himself just as the mad Berserkers came at him. He gripped his blade with both hands and prepared himself. He dodged around their incoming barrage, waiting for the perfect chance to take one of them out.

But True Saber felt his world shift suddenly. The sane Berserker had snuck around him and was in the process of suplexing him.

True Saber flipped the sword around and stabbed him through his shoulder. Berserker growled in pain and dropped him, but True Saber realized only too late that he had left himself open to the two mad Berserkers.

One of their strikes got through, breaking his chestplate more than it already was, but he quickly returned his attention to them and started blocking their strikes. They were sloppy enough that True Saber didn’t need a lot of reaction time in order to guard effectively.

True Saber countered one and sliced through his arm. It was one less limb he had to deal with.

He then pivoted on his foot, trying to keep his eyes on the sane one. Before he could get a lock on the sane one, however, he found his face repeatedly being peppered with quick jabs. True Saber sliced his blade upwards, intending to sever the arm, but cut air. Berserker then slammed a hard right into True Saber’s head.

Berserker had obscured True Saber’s vision with the jabs, making True Saber’s next strike easy to counter. This Berserker was far smarter than True Saber had initially believed.

True Saber hmphed. He let the Mana within him burst out, forming it into his angelic wings.

He used the wings to block the incoming strikes of the two mad Berserkers behind him. He then twisted, throwing a roundhouse kick into their face and blasting them back. He used his momentum to return to the sane Berserker.

In a flash, he dashed round Berserker, attacking from Berserker’s blind-

Berserker backhanded him, sending him flying to the side. True Saber righted himself and planted his feet, sliding along the ground.

If Berserker was able to see him, then True Saber just wasn’t moving fast enough. He poured more Mana into his wings and took off, attacking from behind once more.

Berserker elbowed him, followed up by grabbing the back of his head and flipping him onto the ground. Berserker stomped, but True Saber rolled away and sliced at Berserker before he got hit.

Berserker managed to dodge, but barely. A wound now extended from Berserker’s middle of his chest up to his cheek.

Once more taking off, True Saber began attacking from various angles. But Berserker beat him to the punch each time, slipping around True Saber’s blade and unleashing devastating counterattacks.

“Your attack patterns are unimaginative! You’re far too easy to predict!” Berserker roared at him, tossing him with some kind of wrestling throw.

If True Saber wasn’t careful, Berserker would break his helmet soon. Without protections, all it would take is a single blow to the head from Berserker at full power to kill True Saber.

That realization caused True Saber to back off, to try and recuperate. Unfortunately, the two mad Berserkers had returned and were charging at him. The sane Berserker, too, joined them in the charge.

True Saber had had enough of this. He pulled the Chains of Heaven out and unleashed it on them, enveloping them in the golden chain. They all froze as soon as it touched them.

They all shared Lancer’s one weakness. Divinity.

As True Saber tightened the chain around them, he approached the sane Berserker.

This Berserker was strong. But strong in a different way than Lancer was.

“You have my respect. You were truly a formidable opponent-” his words were interrupted by the sane Berserker suddenly reaching out and shattering the Chains of Heaven with a clamped fist. The world seemed to move slowly. True Saber was truly shocked.

The sane Berserker was suddenly jumping, towering over True Saber with a single fist cocked back, ready to strike him.

What… was happening here? He should’ve overpowered Berserker ten times over already.

Berserker slammed that pent up fist into True Saber, launching him back. True Saber righted himself. He saw the three Berserkers now running at him once more.

_ No… do not falter, as Samael has before you _ , True Saber told himself.

This was a test. A test of faith.

True Saber lifted his sword above his head as Berserker and his two copies got closer.

He had faith. He was second only to God himself. Only  _ he _ was capable of saving the world. Did Berserker not understand that? This Berserker, noble as he was, stood in the way of the salvation of the world. And that could not be overlooked.

“Unlocking the second seal. Ascending to the Third Heaven. Achieving  _ Shehaquim _ .”

The holy energy of the heavens burst forward from the base, wrapping around the blade and spiralling into the sky.

Berserker was in front of him now. He would be obliterated at point-blank range. True Saber decided to keep his testimony to Berserker short.

“Farewell, Berserker,” True Saber bid. He brought his sword down, unleashing the power of his blade at Berserker.

The energy flew forward, unmaking all in it’s path. Even sound didn’t escape this destruction, as the world itself became silent and bright around them.

But Berserker was not hit by it. He had rolled under the blade, letting the energy graze his back as he dodged the direct hit. The energy hurled past the sane Berserker and obliterated the two mad Berserkers behind him.

True Saber was not so blind as to not notice Berserker bringing his fist up into an uppercut. True Saber was far faster. Though he had one hand occupied with his sword, he still had one hand to block with, and his strength made it quite easy-

Pain.

The energy cut out, and a cacophonous roar filled True Saber’s ears as the remaining energy flew forward and dissipated entirely.

He did not understand at first. He was feeling pain. Berserker was just standing in front of him.

True Saber looked down. Berserker’s arm had pierced his chest, impaling him. Berserker wasn’t aiming for his head. He was aiming for his body. He had targeted True Saber’s head for most of the fight, just to bluff his way into a direct hit on the chest. True Saber felt foolish for falling for such an obvious ruse.

As blood seeped out from around Berserker’s arm, True Saber looked back at Berserker. He had never noticed how Berserker towered over him.

True Saber’s sword dropped from his grasp. It landed in the dirt and kicked up a cloud of dust.

Berserker placed his free hand on True Saber’s shoulder and pushed, pulling his arm out of him. More pain followed, and True Saber fell to his knees. His armor cracked further, and shattered. Piece by piece it fell off, kicking up more and more dust around him. His mask came apart. He could not stop it.

Eventually, his armor was completely undone.

Silence, once more.

But once more, like last time, there was something that interrupted the silence. He could not hear it with the clashing of their attacks and the rumbling of the Earth beneath them, but… there was something coming from the town. True Saber turned his head towards it.

“Do you hear that?” he asked.

Berserker turned his head as well. “Yes. It's those bums singing Kumbaya. They do it all the time.”

“S… singing?” True Saber spoke, wavering on his knees. Indeed, as he listened closer, the familiar sound came to him. He remembered it from the church belltower.

“Yes. Is there something strange about it?” Berserker asked.

“Is that singing…?”

“What?”

“It sounds to me that… they’re just speaking. No different than you or I.”

True Saber looked down and saw his sword lying on the ground. He raised his hand shakily and placed his fingertips to his forehead. “Forgive me Lord… I have failed you.”

Berserker spoke up. “You did not fail. Maybe you just… misunderstood what side you were supposed to be on.”

True Saber looked up at Berserker, letting his hand fall limply to his side. “No. I failed him by allowing myself to be summoned by the Throne of Heroes. He knew, back then, that it was pointless... yet he allowed me to do it anyway. I was curious, you see. I wanted to understand you humans. To know what you saw as ‘beautiful’. To know who you saw as ‘worthy’. To know why you so happily acted in sin. But now I see… that such an act of understanding is impossible. And will  _ always _ be impossible.”

Berserker only sternly looked at True Saber as he began to fade away. “I see… then my being here to see you off… would be a gesture you couldn’t appreciate, either,” Berserker spoke, almost regretfully. He turned and started to move back towards the mountain.

True Saber looked at the town wistfully. “You humans are so beyond me. I suppose your nature is just something... I am not meant to know.”

True Saber became one with the dust around him, and disappeared.

* * *

Saber had sat there for a long time after Archer had left. He heard the crashing of battle outside, and saw Uhlan pass by in a trance, walking past the Grail as if he didn’t even see it. The noises outside eventually died down, and he became alone once more.

He knew he had nowhere else to go. The Grail was his for the taking… but at the same time, he couldn’t bring himself to stand and take it.

What would he even do with it? What could a weakling like him ever accomplish with that power? Well, that was just it, wasn’t it? With the Grail, he wouldn’t be a weakling anymore. He could do what he always wanted to.

Right?

Slowly, Saber stood. His heavy feet sluggishly moved towards the Holy Grail as it hovered in complete silence. His footfalls made him realize how alone he was.

He reached out his hand towards the Grail, barely grazing it with his fingertips.

“F-... Father?” he squeaked out of his lips.

If Angra Mainyu was in this thing… where exactly was he? He wasn’t in the round part. Maybe he was within the ‘stem’ part of the cup. It must’ve been cramped, if that was the case.

He heard the sound of liquid filling something. He looked behind him. Had it started to rain again?

He felt something wet touch his hand and foot. He turned back around to see a dark red muck spilling out of the top of the Grail, despite the fact that it had been empty not a moment ago.

The muck seemed to come alive, and started grabbing at him.

Saber was terrified. But he couldn’t move. And furthermore… knew he shouldn’t. He closed his eyes, submitting. The mud spewed from the Grail, consuming him entirely and plunging his world into darkness.

This… was the end for him.

And the start of Azi Dehaka’s reign.

* * *

Chiaki had found herself staring through the window in Uhlan’s office into the Ley Line again. It was truly hypnotizing. And she found herself thinking about a lot of things, like who she was, and what she was going to do from here.

But when Chiaki felt the rumbling die down, she started to walk towards the entrance. She did her best to move around the rubble and misplaced Earth caused by Berserker and True Saber’s battle.

She couldn’t hide her excitement. She had thought up of a new wish for the Grail. She was eager to share it with Berserker. He would be on his way back soon.

She was broken out of her thoughts when she found herself at the cave entrance. It was dark. The sun had definitely gone down by this point, which would make traversing the cave a little difficult.

“Chiaki!” Berserker shouted from behind her.

She turned and saw him. “Are you okay?” he asked.

She nodded. “Why wouldn’t I be? You won, didn’t you?”

Worryingly, Berserker didn’t smile. He hurried over to her. “None of that mud came back down here, did it?”

Chiaki arched an eyebrow at him. “Mud? What? What are you talking about?”

Berserker looked past her and into the cavern. “Good… doesn’t look like it came this way. This may actually be the safest place for you right now.”

“Berserker! Talk to me! What the hell is happening?”

Berserker looked at her, frowning. He seemed to think of what to say for a moment. Eventually, he just shook his head. “Something bad.”

He moved past her and into the cavern. Chiaki followed, of course.

“Listen, you might think being ominous and vague makes you sound cool, but you’re seriously starting to freak me out. Give me a straight answer here, what-”

She got her answer. They had entered into the main area of the cave, and could see outside into the night. Just outside the cave, shambling down into the ‘wasteland’ was some amorphous blob of mud, bigger than the mountain itself. The lights of the town illuminated it.

Its body was oblong, and shifting constantly. Its limbs, if they could be called that, were pale and bony, but disproportionate in size to the body. It didn't lift its torso off the ground, it just seemed to slowly claw its way forward using its comparatively small appendages.

It had three heads, each one having scabby flesh that might’ve resembled scales if it wasn’t so mucky, and each one propped up on the end of a pillar of pulsating sludge that resembled a long neck. The heads twirled around and through one another, seemingly unconcerned for how a three-headed monster should have form.

Whatever it was, it was terrifying, and heading straight for the town.

“Saber…” Berserker glowered.

Chiaki looked at him. “What?”

“He took the Grail. What that thing is… I assume it's what the Grail gave him when he asked ‘to become Azi Dehaka’.”

Chiaki looked back at it, her heart sinking. “But that means… the Grail…”

Berserker shook his head. “Gone.”

She just stared at it. This thing that was moving across the wasteland.

It wasn’t fair. They had won. They were the last Servant standing. Why… why was Saber the one to get the Grail?  
“No…” Chiaki murmured. “No, there’s got to be a way we can get the Grail… undo his wish, somehow. Reverse it.”

“Chiaki…”

Chiaki marched forward, towards the entrance. “It can’t end like this! We've come so far! It’s not  _ fair _ !” Chiaki screamed. Her words echoed within the cave.

“Chiaki… it’s going to be okay.”

Chiaki stopped, and turned around. Berserker was slowly walking to the entrance as well. “I’ll stop him,” he spoke softly, “I won’t let him hurt anyone.”

Chiaki felt like she was going to throw up. She walked down the incline towards him. She stumbled over her words. “But wait… you can’t mean… I mean, if the war is over, then…”

She stood in front of Berserker, blocking his path. He just started to move around her. She reached out and pulled on his arm, stopping him for a moment. “You’re not… I won’t let you.”

Berserker smiled at her. He knelt down and put a hand on her shoulder. “Chiaki, you don’t need to be sad. I said it before, and I meant it. You don’t need me. You’re free to live however you want.”

That pit in Chiaki’s stomach grew larger. She couldn’t even cry, despite her desire to.

Berserker stood up and brushed her cheek with his massive hand. Then he turned and started walking away.

“We were so close…” she absent-mindedly lamented.

“This isn’t goodbye. Not yet,” Berserker reassured, staying a moment, still looking out at the monster on the horizon.

Her face became sullen. She could hear it in his voice. She knew it. He knew it, too.

“Isn’t it?”

There was a brief moment of silence.

“I’ll… see you around,” Berserker said.

“Yeah,” she replied, “See you.”

She clenched her fists, and watched him leave the cave.


	25. How to Kill a Monster

Berserker had walked for a while through the wasteland just outside of Mt. Ganz. His mind was occupied. There were so many things he wanted to be doing instead… but he knew what he _had_ to do.

He looked up at Azi Dehaka. It was getting closer to the town. Soon, it’d be on top of them. Berserker could already hear the screams and panic of the people as they ran from it. He’d heard these screams many times. And faced monsters like this many times more.

Berserker cracked his knuckles and his neck. “I apologize for the wait, Saber… I had to say my goodbyes. I’m a little disappointed you got started without me, but I should’ve expected that kind of rudeness from you. Now then…”

He got low to the ground, ready to fire off. “It’s time for that rematch of ours.”

Berserker launched off the ground, charging directly at Azi Dehaka.

* * *

The man had thought that getting assaulted by that strange person in a red cape in the park was going to be the strangest event of his life.

Unfortunately, he was wrong in the most terrifying way possible.

Now, he stared up at an impossibly large monstrosity as its bulbous body absorbed the buildings that existed on the outskirts of town. The ground beneath him rumbled and the earth cracked as the thing forced its way forward.

People were running in the opposite direction, but of course, they were trapped on the coastline. There was an airport nearby, but who knew how long it would be able to handle the pressure of the entire population of the town trying to escape what was, to their eyes, the apocalypse?

He didn’t waste time as he called his fiance and told her to get out of the town. He didn’t really need to explain why. Everyone could see the ungodly creature that consumed the horizon.

“There’s a man on the docks here that's getting people onto boats. How far away are you?” she asked, panicked.

“I’m at the airport. Get on a boat and get out of here. I’ll be along shortly,” he replied.

“I don’t want to leave without you!”  
“I’ll be okay, I promise. Just get away from here, and we’ll meet after we’re both safe.”

“...Okay… I love you.”

“I love you, too. Goodbye.”

And just like that, she hung up. The man was surprised he was able to keep his voice from cracking. It was the most calm he had ever been in his life. He dropped his phone and looked down at his crushed leg. The old abandoned church tower had collapsed on him. He was going to die.

Maybe it was the mere fact that he could do nothing to stop his oncoming demise that made him so calm. If he couldn’t do anything to stop it, why try to fight?

He looked back up at the monster as it lumbered closer. There was a roar in his ears, and he wasn’t sure if it was the beast growling or the Earth cracking beneath him.

Now that he looked at the strange monster in front of him, the muddy and seemingly formless body of the thing was colored a deep red… a similar color of the cape of that strange man from the park. An odd coincidence.

He closed his eyes. He didn’t like watching it come.

There was a surge of pain in his leg. He cried out and his eyes shot open to see yet another odd sight.

A large man with a golden string wrapped around one of his forearms stood over him. He lifted the large stone that had crushed his leg and tossed it aside with a single hand, as if it were no heavier than a crumpled up piece of paper.

The man found himself being pulled up. He was steadied onto his one good leg, and a large wooden stick was thrust into his arms.

The large man looked at him with piercing red eyes and pointed back towards the coast. “Go!” he shouted.

And with that, the large man turned on his heel and exploded off the ground, leaping at the monster.

The man could only stare, dumbfounded. There was a sudden thunderous noise from an impact of some kind, and it snapped him back to his senses. He needed to get out of here.

He turned, keeping his leg off the ground, and hobbled in the opposite direction.

Momentarily, he was indignant at the fact that no one else had stopped and tried to lift the stone off him, or that no one was trying to help an obviously crippled man escape danger.

Then he wondered if he would’ve done the same.

* * *

Berserker let loose a punch into the beast’s jaw. It recoiled, not in pain, but from the sheer force of Berserker’s punch.

A second head swirled around and snapped at him. Berserker flipped in the air and kicked out, knocking the second head aside. It didn’t stop the third head from smashing into him with its jaws open. Berserker was quick enough to place a hand each on its upper and lower jaw, keeping it from crushing him, but he was forced back in the air.

He grunted as the head of Azi Dehaka clamped down harder on Berserker. He forced it open, and started to reel back a kick.

His blows had done nothing to harm the monster. Anytime he landed a good hit, the flesh would bend from impact and reform, as if he were fighting a piece of rubber with infinite elasticity. Whatever this thing was, blunt force had no effect on it.

The jaw loosened a moment, and Berserker took that moment to rocket his kick into the roof of its mouth, flinging it back and propelling himself backwards at the same time.

Another head came swinging in from the right. Berserker twisted to meet it, but it swerved off to the side before it came within striking range.

Berserker hit the ground and slid, getting back into a fighting position quickly.

The head that had been kicked suddenly started to spasm and gurgle. Berserker kept his eyes on the two other heads, but they seemed to hang back and just watch from a distance.

He watched in horror as large bulges in the flesh started to pump their way up the neck of the third head. Berserker took a few steps back. If this thing had fire breath, he was going to be seriously pissed.

The third head suddenly snapped forward and a deep red mud, the same that this thing seemed to be made of, vomited from the things mouth. It came down in a cascade, aimed directly at Berserker.

Berserker jumped back and turned, starting to run. He heard the sickening sound of the sludge falling on the ground behind him, felt the heat from it strike at his back.

_Not quite fire breath, at least._

Whatever it was, he had no doubt in his mind that it was dangerous. The way it seemed to swallow things in its path was evidence enough of that.

He bent his knees and jumped, flipping to see the creature. The mud had stopped coming en masse out the creature, but it was still slowly pouring from the monster’s mouth in slow slops.

Berserker gritted his teeth as he landed on his feet.

He took a moment to analyze the situation. Azi Dehaka was focused on him at the moment… but that mud could change everything. It could flow forward and burn the town while Berserker was preoccupied fighting.

He’d just have to make sure its focus, and its mud, was aimed away from the town. He couldn’t draw it too far back towards the mountain, either… but there didn’t seem to be a better solution right now.

Even using God Hand right now wouldn’t help much. It would allow for a more complete distraction, but it almost meant eating up any Mana he had left. The distraction wouldn’t last as long, and Berserker would disappear afterwards. If he disappeared before he could stop this thing, it was quite literally the end of the world.

Right now, delaying Azi Dehaka long enough for the townspeople to escape was his priority. Stopping this thing altogether would be a task for later.

Berserker cracked his knuckles and ran back towards Azi Dehaka.

* * *

Chiaki was still in the cave, looking at the stars in the sky through the entrance. She could hear the sound of battle. She knew she should probably go to the entrance itself, and watch the fight that would decide the fate of the world.

And yet she couldn’t. She wasn’t even sure she could move right now if she wanted to. She was frozen, just pondering.

She didn’t know what to do. She didn’t know what she wanted. She didn’t know who she _was_.

She had a brand new life displayed out before her, and she was frozen with indecision on what to do with it.

Well… she didn’t _know_ that she had a brand new life. There was a monster just outside that was fighting to end any chance of that life being real.

In an odd way, she almost wished Berserker would fail in defeating Saber. She didn’t want Berserker to be hurt, of course, but… she wanted Berserker to come back, defeated, needing her help to stay manifested. But she also knew that that would mean putting the town and all the people in it at risk.

No, what she _really_ wanted was for Azi Dehaka to have never existed. She wanted the Grail so that she could join Berserker when he went to the Reverse Side of the World. She wanted to be with Berserker in this sleepy little town forever, with Remia and Archer and Tohsaka and Lancer as their neighbors. That would’ve been nice.

But because Berserker had a different goal… it couldn’t be that way. He needed to see Ariadne. And because there were people in danger… people he didn’t even know… he had to go and save them.

And now she was alone again. Without a clue as to how to continue.

 _You are the same person you’ve always been, Chiaki,_ Archer’s words returned to her.

 _Not like you’ve known me my entire life,_ Chiaki lamented. Her legs were getting tired of standing. She wondered if she should go out and sit on the rock that Saber had been sitting on outside the cave.

Or maybe she should go further back in, find a place to sit in the compound.

She continued to stand and think.

* * *

Berserker rolled to a halt, but he had to embed his fist into the ground to stop himself from rolling into the mud. He scrambled to his feet and immediately jumped to the side as a head came roaring at him, blasting past him and into the space behind him.

Berserker took the time to punch at its neck, but the same result occurred. It bended, but reformed immediately.

Another head came at him, and Berserker took off, running to get some distance between them.

Berserker hadn’t taken much damage. Neither had Azi Dehaka. The two were far from evenly matched, they just lacked the means to hurt each other.

Or rather… Berserker lacked the means to hurt Azi Dehaka. Azi Dehaka only lacked the accuracy to hurt Berserker.

Berserker took a moment and looked the beast up and down. “Are you still in there, Saber? Somewhere, fighting to get out?” Berserker asked no one in particular.

Azi Dehaka regrouped its heads and looked at Berserker, immediately lurching towards him.

Berserker shook his head. “No, I imagine not. Fighting, that is. You might be in there somewhere… which means you might be at the core of this thing. Or maybe you really are gone. Maybe there’s really nothing left of you.”

Berserker huffed as Azi Dehaka closed in. “Yeah right. Like you’ll ever stop showing up, just to annoy me.”

Berserker folded his arms and waited for Azi Dehaka as it reared its heads back. “Would that have been so bad, Saber? Just living, coming around to annoy us once in a while? No… I suppose that life is long gone. You gave it up.”

The heads converged on him at once, and Berserker easily rolled out of the way, and they collided, but they continued forward in a demented charge. Berserker curled his lip and reached his hands out, clashing with the thing as it easily pushed him backwards through the wasteland.

“What were you after?” Berserker snarled. “Why did you ruin everything? For us? For yourself?”

Berserker threw a punch into the beast’s “eye”. It didn’t flinch, and continued to press forward, nearly overcoming Berserker in his moment of being off-balance. Berserker recovered quickly and heaved the head upwards, sliding beneath it as he let it pass overhead. He rolled out from under its neck and jumped, moving towards the body.

“Were you looking for an easier life? One where you stopped failing? That life was _always_ impossible.”

Berserker’s anger grew in himself and he assaulted the body with a barrage of blows, pushing the flesh back a few inches with each strike. He nearly pressed in a whole meter before the flesh resurged and nearly consumed him.

Berserker gritted his teeth and grabbed at the flesh, trying to tear it off. “Say something, damn you! Don’t you have a defense!? Don’t you have some reasoning, some excuse!? _Say something_!” Berserker roared, ferociously ripping into the rubbery body with his bare hands.

Berserker felt the sting in his hands, and sensed the movement behind him. He jumped, letting the head of Azi Dehaka crash into its body.

Berserker flipped off to the side, avoiding the strikes from the other two heads as he retreated, eventually getting clipped on his shoulder and making him roll to his knees to disperse the impact.

He got to a single knee and caught his breath. The beast seemed unstoppable. Its defense too thick. Its power too infinite. What could he do against it?

Berserker wavered. “Saber... say something, or I’ll have to kill you. Please. I don’t… I don’t want to end it like this again. I _can’t_ let it end like this again. I _want_ to save you, don’t you see that?”

Azi Dehaka said nothing, and renewed its pursuit of Berserker.

Berserker looked down and shook his head. “Of course not. Because you don’t want to be saved, do you?”

Berserker clenched his fists and looked up at Azi Dehaka, standing. “Your selfishness angers me to no end. I’m not going to let you hurt anyone, Saber. I’d sooner die than let that happen.”

He got into a fighting stance, staring at Azi Dehaka as it got closer. Berserker let it come to him. The longer he could make it fight against him, the better.

Berserker’s eyes wandered to the sky behind the beast. The moon had risen, casting a silver shine onto the land around them. The stars were out, and clearly visible in all their glory.

Behind Azi Dehaka, Berserker spied a shooting star, making him smirk.

That shooting star reminded him of that man’s spear. It gave off that beautiful light and the way it grew brighter…

...and moved towards Azi Dehaka...

Berserker’s eyes widened as he realized why that shooting star reminded him of Lancer’s spear.

Because it _was_ Lancer’s spear, having completed its orbit around the Earth. It was cracked, and barely holding together as a Broken Phantasm, but the energy it radiated was proof enough that it still had power.

Gungnir Proto slammed into Azi Dehaka’s body, exploding in that dazzling blue light. Berserker shielded his eyes as the blast from it radiated through the land around him. Berserker dug his heels into the Earth to prevent himself from falling backwards.

When the light faded, Berserker could see that there was now a sizable chunk of Azi Dehaka’s body now missing, and its three heads were flailing around savagely.

Berserker was still in awe of the sheer incredibility of the event, so he did not react right away.

Lancer had seen the future, and aimed his spear to hit a target that was removed by the span of the Earth and a day. And more incredible than that - it _worked_. For the first time in the battle, Azi Dehaka had taken damage.

And Berserker was just standing there, completely wasting the opportunity.

Berserker shook the fog around his head away and bolted around Azi Dehaka, desperate to see the damage for himself.

He doubted that even Gungnir would be capable of damaging Azi Dehaka permanently. It would begin to grow its body back. And Lancer had to have known that. So why attack as he did? Why here, and why now? There must’ve been a reason.

Berserker was able to move himself around to see the wound now. It stood, gaping and wet with mud.

Inside, illuminated by the light of the moon, was Saber, who looked to have been grown into the living insides of the beast. His face was dull and expressionless, and his gaze met nothing. His skin was molded in with the mud itself, though he looked far from fused to it.

Saber was at the center of Azi Dehaka. He _was_ still in there. And unfortunately, in the time it had taken Berserker to get around Azi Dehaka and realize what he was looking at, the flesh of the beast had begun to reform around Saber.

Berserker tore forward, flying through the air and into the hole. He reached out for Saber, trying to grab him.

“Saber!” Berserker cried. Saber’s eyes, even glazed over as they were, seemed to flinch, but did not move.

The mud closed over Saber’s face and threatened to consume Berserker’s arm.

Berserker retracted his arm, cursing. He began tearing at the mud, trying to get to Saber. But it was regrowing faster than he could tear it away. Berserker gave a cry of frustration.

He looked over his shoulder and saw the hole begin to close, slowly. He gritted his teeth and flew back out the hole, tearing through the small tendrils of mud that had started to close the gap.

He got out just in time for the head of Azi Dehaka to crash into him, knocking him into the ground and making him slide backwards. Berserker picked himself and spat blood and dirt out of his mouth. He rubbed his jaw, the point of impact. It hurt like hell, but it didn’t seem to do any permanent damage.

He looked back at the hole in Azi Dehaka. The wound was taking longer to close than he expected. So it was possible for him to tear back in there… but without a form of attack like Lancer’s, an attack based solely in magical energy, there would be no point. That was the only way to make the flesh retract faster than it could recreate itself.

Berserker sighed.

 _Sorry, Lancer. I wasted the opportunity you gave me. At the very least, I know now that Saber is in there_.

Berserker growled. Lancer probably had seen Berserker failing, too. Maybe this was all Lancer’s way of laughing at Berserker one last time.

Not like Lancer wouldn’t have been the more optimal choice to fight a monster like this. Even disregarding Lancer’s magical abilities, he had far higher speed, which was more useful against a cumbersome foe like this one.

But Lancer had gotten his Spiritual Core pierced. That was why he bet it all on Berserker. Lancer wouldn’t have been able to make it here either way.

Berserker cursed his luck. In order to win, he needed to have some kind of Magical based attack on a massive scale, like Lancer’s Gungnir… he simply… didn't...

Oh... but he did.

Berserker placed a hand on his chest and looked at Azi Dehaka. If he could blow that wound open again, before it fully had time to close, then he could get to Saber and finish this. He didn’t have a choice. It was the only way.

He gripped his chest tightly. He didn’t know why he had such a moment of hesitation. Sure, going through with it was like admitting that this really was the end for him, but… 

He gave a look full of regret to the cave on the side of Mt. Ganz.

But he’d known it for a while. He said it himself. That life was always impossible.

He turned, tightening both his hands into fists. He blasted forward once more.

* * *

Assassin’s Master had felt better the moment that the Archer-class Servant had placed the cloak of his on her. She assumed it was a Noble Phantasm of some kind. Slowly, she felt her strength returning.

She had pinched herself numerous times on the path here. She had had dreams similar to this situation. Someone was able to find her and take her away from Assassin. At first it was her mother. Then it was her teacher. Then a stranger she remembered seeing earlier that day.

She remembered being so relieved. Then she’d wake up.

She had stopped having those dreams. And then this happened. She still wasn’t certain that it was actually real.

But the farther and farther away she got from the mountain… passing by the church tower… and finally seeing the town around her, with strange looks from the people on the street… the more it solidified the idea that, maybe... just maybe....

But then the ground started to rumble, and her heart dropped. She knew it was a trick. It may have been real… it certainly _felt_ that way… but there was no way she was getting away from Assassin.

Her mouth quivered in fear for a moment, but then she was distracted from her fear. Something was different. Slowly, she reached a hand up to her mouth. There was a lump in her mouth. It took a moment to recognize it.

It was her tongue. She had her tongue again.

She didn’t understand at first, but she soon realized that it was the cloak that Archer had placed over her. It healed her. She had her tongue back.

The Archer suddenly lowered her onto a bench, surprising her. She looked at him to see what was wrong.

He looked so tired. His eyes looked like they were dead. And furthermore…

He had begun to fade away.

The Archer removed the cloak from around her shoulders and returned it to his own… but it, too, began to disappear into golden particles.

She looked up behind herself and saw that she was in front of the hospital. He had taken her to a place she could get help.

She looked back, intent on speaking to her saviour. She wanted to thank him, she wanted to tell him her name, or ask for his name. Anything.

But her voice got stuck in her throat as she saw a monster on the horizon. A small golden dot seemed to be jumping around it, blasting into it, running away, and then coming at it again. She wasn’t sure what she was looking at. A battle of some kind.

“Get… away from here…” the Archer murmured, stumbling towards the battle. In his hand, he clutched his gun.

But his cloak vanished from his back. And his gun disappeared from his hand. He looked down and saw his hands dissipating.

He closed his eyes, the smallest hint of anguish appearing on his face.

“I am… sorry. I… can’t...” he gasped out, seemingly looking at the monster horizon.

She wasn’t sure what it was he despaired over… but she knew that she didn’t want him to die in that state. He had saved her, and given her voice back to her.

Assassin’s Master stood up, strength renewed.

“Thank you,” she proclaimed. “Thank you so much.”

The Archer heard her words, and looked at her. There was just a small moment that occurred. It was a moment where his anguish disappeared. It wasn’t replaced with happiness. Or satisfaction.

It was a moment of relief. Knowing she was okay.

And in that moment, he breathed out a long and slow breath, and he faded away entirely.

* * *

Berserker jumped, clearing one head’s charge completely. He continued towards the wound in Azi Dehaka by running along the neck of the monster.

But the two other heads came rushing at him while, at the same time, the neck he was on suddenly bent and threw him skywards. The two heads crashed into him and threatened to crush him, but Berserker quickly blasted one head away with a punch. The other head took the opportunity to clamp down on his leg and swing him, flinging him towards the town.

Berserker tried to stop his momentum, but couldn’t succeed before he crashed into a building, crumbling the walls around him. He struggled to stand up and step out of the ruins.

It was getting stronger. Or smarter, rather. It was like it was finally getting used to the body it had.

Berserker gritted his teeth and brushed the concrete and dust off himself.

He didn’t have much time. He needed to get to that wound before it closed entirely. He doubted that what he had in mind, as powerful as it was, would be powerful enough to pierce through the whole body like Lancer’s Gungnir could. If the wound closed over entirely, all hope was lost.

Berserker took a step forward, and his leg buckled. He found himself on a single knee, and breathing heavily. That couldn’t be right. He had taken _some_ damage, for certain, but not enough to…

He struggled to his feet once again. He looked at his hand, and his eyes widened.

At the edge, there were a few specks of gold beginning to break away from his hand. He closed his eyes.

_Not yet, dammit... not yet!_

He opened his eyes and clenched his fist, willing himself to stay anchored, if only for a little while longer. The glow around his fist disappeared.

He looked back at Azi Dehaka as it swayed its heads back and forth, seemingly taunting him.

_Just a little longer…_

He launched forward, sprinting as fast as he could at the beast.

The heads came at him. Berserker dodged around one, avoiding its neck this time. The other two were already waiting of course, but Berserker hung back, letting the first head miss its mark. He reared up and punched the third head away, moving forward once more.

He felt the first head spin back in on him, causing Berserker to jump and slam a heavy kick into its forehead, knocking it back and propelling him through the air directly at the body itself.

He could see the wound itself now. There were a plethora of muddy strands across it, but it still looked weak. He lifted his shoulder and smashed into them as hard as he could, snapping most of them as he went through.

Unfortunately, he only made it halfway before those muddy bands succeeded in killing his momentum. He could see the back of the wound now, where just about a meter of flesh covered Saber.

It was now or never. The only way he could reach Saber now…

He reached a hand up to his chest. He shook his head, but gritted his teeth. It was a long shot, but it was better than nothing. This was going to be painful.

He reared his hand, the one that _didn’t_ have the Ariadne Thread on it, back. He thrust his hand forward and around, plunging it into his own chest.

The pain that wracked through him was immeasurable, and Berserker cried out past his clenched teeth. The bands of flesh started to burn hotter, as if responding to his pain. But nothing burned hotter than his own chest, being pierced by his own hand.

Despite that pain, he forced his hand deeper, searching for its target. The further he drove his hand in, the more his arm grew weak. The more his body screamed at him to stop. But Berserker pushed forward.

His hand scraped past the bone of his ribcage, making every nerve in his body pulsate in response, paralyzing Berserker with pain. But he couldn’t stop here. He was nearly done. Chiaki was nearly safe.

But his arm no longer listened to him. It rebelled, refusing to cause anymore pain to the body it belonged to. So, with his other hand, the one with the Ariadne Thread wrapped around it, he grabbed his elbow and forced his arm deeper, until it touched the thing he was looking for.

The greatest source of Mana he had.

His fingers wrapped around it, tunneling through the flesh surrounding it. The pain stabbed at him, but at this point… there was no pain that could match what he had already done.

Now grabbing hold of the crook of his elbow, he pulled. Working in tandem, his two arms pulled the object he desired out himself. It was still attached by a few strands of muscle and flesh, but Berserker had no time to really care. With one last pull, he screamed as he successfully pulled his heart out of himself.

His Spiritual Core bubbled with magical energy in the palm of his hand, hypnotizing Berserker for a moment. His vision started to cloud over. Everything grew darker for a moment. He shook his head, trying to focus himself.

 _Not yet, damn you!_ Berserker shouted in his head.

Almost in a trance, Berserker realized that the darkness was caused by something blocking the moonlight.

He turned, and gazed at the head of Azi Dehaka peeking in on him. It opened its mouth and started gurgling. He could see that it was beginning to vomit mud as it had done before. Only now, he was trapped inside the beast itself, and wouldn’t be able to dodge.

A voice spoke in his head. _You need to move. Now._

His hand, as if possessed, came alive and slapped him. His focus sharpened, and he turned towards the wall of flesh dividing him and Saber.

Berserker stretched his hand, holding his Spiritual Core, as far towards the wall of flesh as he could.

 _Like pushing a marble, right?_ he thought.

Chiaki spoke to him a second time. _Like pushing a marble._

He Detonated the Spiritual Core.

The world around him filled with light. He felt the magical energy sear into his face, and his wound, and his arm.

He also felt the bands of mud burn away, liberating him. He felt the walls of flesh push back, receding as if they were water being repulsed by a gust of wind. He also knew that the blast of the Detonation would at least repulse, if not destroy the head at the entrance.

Though he was blinded, Berserker pushed himself forward into the blinding light, knowing he wouldn’t have long to do what he had to.

The light finally died, and Berserker found himself standing in front of Saber, only his knees down being contained by the body of Azi Dehaka. His body was slumped forward, and in danger of being consumed by the mud once again. 

Acting fast, Berserker reached forward, but soon saw that the arm he Detonated his Spiritual Core with was mangled beyond recognition. He reached his good arm down and picked Saber up by the nape of the neck. He lifted him as high as he could, and saw Saber’s eyes, cloudy as they were, beginning to look around.

“W… what?”

Berserker then slid his hand around to the front of Saber, holding him by the throat for a moment.

Saber finally saw Berserker standing in front of him. His eyes recognized Berserker, but did not change.

“Are you… going to… kill me?”

Berserker just gave a disdainful laugh.

Berserker then, as fast as he could, transitioned his arm to underneath Saber’s arm, propping him up somewhat and supporting him to stand on his own.

“L… leave me… Why are… you trying…?” Saber murmured to him.

“Did you not hear me before? I said I wouldn’t let you hurt anyone. And there’s a little girl out there waiting for you.”

Berserker met Saber’s gaze as he gripped him firmly. “And I’d sooner die than watch you break her heart.”

Saber’s eyes finally seemed to wake up. They just stared at Berserker in confusion.

And with that, he heaved Saber out of the mud beneath him. He tossed Saber over his shoulder and turned towards the gaping hole in Azi Dehaka.

But as soon as Saber had left the body, it started to melt. The walls of flesh, once rubbery, turned to sludge, and started to slip off the roof and off the walls. Even the floor began to sink.

Berserker ran forward, jumping out of the hole. He did his best to make the landing soft but the grunt from Saber told him it wasn’t soft enough. Not like he had time to make things comfortable.

Berserker looked back and saw the heads of Azi Dehaka lying lifeless on the ground. The body had begun to melt in a similar fashion.

“You... you moron! You simpleton idiot! What the hell do you think you’re doing!?” Saber screeched at Berserker.

Berserker growled and set Saber on the ground. “What in Hades do you mean?”

Saber recuperated and looked at Berserker, bewildered. “You should’ve killed me. Don’t you see what you’ve done? You’ve endangered _every_ -”

Berserker slapped him, sending him flying several meters.

Saber skidded to a stop and stood up, rubbing his cheek where Berserker had struck him.

“Trussa _asked_ me to. Because she cares about you. And you’re just going to toss yourself away like your trash, even though you know how much you mean to her?”

Saber looked down. “You don’t understand… I can’t be around her without hurting her.”

Berserker took a moment, just looking at Saber. Eventually, he sighed, and stepped towards him. As he raised his hand, Saber recoiled, probably expecting a second slap, but Berserker merely placed his open hand on Saber’s shoulder.

“I don’t know what it is you did, or are afraid of doing, but running away and hoping someone will take you out won’t fix the problem. She wants to talk, so go talk to her. If you really are incapable of being around her without hurting her… then tell her that. She’s smart. She’ll understand.”

Saber looked up at him. “You really don’t-”

There was a sudden and very loud noise, interrupting them. It was like rumbling, but the earth was still.

Berserker traced it to its source, and saw, in the midst of the melting Azi Dehaka, there was a massive black orb, spewing mud out endlessly, seemingly coming from nowhere and flooding onto the ground, spilling over and combining with the corpse of Azi Dehaka.

“What? More mud?”

“It’s… All the World’s Evils. Azi Dehaka was just a container, a shape to give those curses form, and transport them across the globe. You pulled me out, destroying the shape, so now the curses are just coming out unfiltered.”

“Endlessly? How long will it last?”

Saber shook his head. “However long it takes for the Grail to turn all the Mana its stocked up into curses.”

There was a pressure building in Berserker’s chest. He didn’t like it. 

Berserker looked to the coast. There was no way everyone was out. He looked back to the flood of mud beginning to spread from the center of the wasteland.

“Run,” Berserker ordered, “Find Trussa and escape.”

“But-”

“ _Go, dammit!_ ”

Saber hesitated a moment before turning and taking off.

Berserker began to take a step forward, but faltered. “D-dammit...” Berserker felt short of breath. His vision began to darken, and he fell to one knee.

His hand started to glow once more. “N… no…” Berserker growled. “I… I can’t…”

He could hardly move. He looked up helplessly at the wave of evil coming his way.

* * *

She had stood there and pondered her options. She had gone over them over and over again.

But neither of her options were ideal. Either watch Berserker fight and, whether he won or lost, watch him fade away… or walk back into the mountain and abandon him. Those were her two options.

She hardened her gaze.

There had to be another option. One other than not making a decision at all. She wanted to help Berserker.

But how could she? She had done well so far, but fighting world ending monsters was just a little bit above her abilities. Whenever she had fought _anyone_ in this war, they had underestimated her. That was the only reason she was alive right now…

Well… except Assassin. Assassin killed her quite quickly. The only reason she survived that was because Remia had those Ab Reh Sah things.

That’s right. Remia.

Chiaki reached back and grabbed Remia’s gun. She had Remia’s gun now. She could use this to help somehow, right?

She climbed toward the cave entrance slowly. She stopped halfway.

But did Berserker _want_ her help? The way he talked… It was like he wanted that to be the goodbye. The easiest and simplest way it could be. But… even if that was his intention… she wasn’t going to let it end like that.

Chiaki tightened her grip around the pistol. There was no way she was just going to sit here and do nothing while her hero was out fighting for the sake of the world. She always helped however she could. Just like Berserker.

She continued to the entrance. Her eyes, having adjusted to the darkness of the cave, could now easily see the battle with the lights from both the city and stars above.

And she saw a giant hole in the side of the beast. Its heads thrashed around, and Chiaki could see a golden glow jumping between them and ramming into them. Berserker.

She smiled, seeing him fight.

Suddenly, the golden dot sprung off one of the heads of the monster and sailed into the wound. Did he have some kind of plan? Maybe there was a core in there somewhere that he could destroy. Maybe he didn’t need her help after all…

Then she saw one of the heads moving. It slinked through the air, bending in a seemingly unnatural way to look at its own wound, peering in on wherever Berserker was right now. Its neck began to bulge at the base. The bulge started to slowly pump its way towards the head.

Did that thing have some kind of fire breath? That wasn’t good.

Berserker’s Mana started to fluctuate wildly.

 _Not yet, damn you!_ Berserker suddenly shouted in her head.

Chiaki let out a yelp, having been startled by the sudden shout.

_Was that… was that Berserker? But…_

That monster’s head was about to unleash whatever it was building up onto Berserker.

 _You need to move. Now,_ she spoke to him telepathically.

They were still connected to one another. She had no more Command Seals, but… they still had a contract. She could still communicate with him.

 _Like pushing a marble, right?_ He asked.

She was a little confused. She didn't know why he was asking about Detonation… but she did know that she had the answer he was looking for. And she trusted him.

 _Like pushing a marble_.

A massive explosion suddenly ripped through the body of the monster. The light and magical energy exploded right into the face of it as it began to unleash its mass of sludge, and the mud seemed to ignite and burn back into the head itself. The head flailed and spasmed, clearly in some form of pain.

But then it fell, and, after a spasm or two, moved no more.

The beast was defeated.

Chiaki’s heart fluttered with several emotions. Was that it? Where was Berserker? What the hell was that explosion and where did it come from? Did Berserker Detonate something? What did he do? Did he… Was he…

Was it all over?

Not a moment later, the golden dot flew out of the wound. All the weight in the world lifted off Chiaki in that moment.

“Yes…! _Yes_!” she cried, nearly jumping in excitement.

Of course he had made it out. She should’ve never doubted.

But her joy was curbed all too quickly. The wind picked up, as if there was a sudden change in weather. The cold whipped around her for a moment before reversing, making the wind hot and fly towards her, brushing her hair back.

She soon saw that the source of the wind was a strange black hole in the center of the melting corpse of the monster. And this hole was throwing out both blazing winds and a torrent of deep red mud.

It splashed over the edges of the corpse, consuming and blending with it before waving outwards, toward the town.

It only took a moment for Chiaki to realize that Berserker’s Mana was nearly depleted. And he hadn’t moved for some time from the spot he had landed at.

 _Berserker? Are you alright?_ She asked.

There was a harrowing delay before his response.

_Chiaki… stay in the mountain. The mud won’t be able to reach you there._

_What? Why? Are you not able to move?_

_I can… but not very fast… I don’t think I’ll make it to the mountain in time. You need… to stay safe._

Chiaki looked back at the black hole. It wasn’t slowing in its release of mud. Her eyes moved to the coastline.

He couldn’t stop it. He had pushed as far as he could go and now… right at the end… everything was falling apart. All the people he had fought to save were going to die.

Chiaki looked down at Remia’s gun. What could she do? She didn’t want to just stay here and survive. She wanted to help. But the gun wouldn’t be able to burn away all that mud, like whatever Berserker had set off to burrow his way to the core of the monster…

She needed a larger source of Mana. Something big enough to destroy that black hole…

Chiaki’s heart fell for a moment. She had an idea.

She looked to the northeast. Old Einzbern Castle was in that general direction… she didn’t know if it was a straight shot from here to there… but it was her only shot at this point.

She measured the trajectory. The black hole was slightly off-center, but it should’ve still been okay. The mud itself had yet to crash into the town. Now was a perfect time, but she’d have to be quick.

She turned on her heel and bolted back into the cave.

_Berserker, can you move to the west?_

_Why? It's hard to… I can move a little bit that way._

_Good._

She didn’t slip as she flew through the entrance of the bunker hidden beneath Mt. Ganz.

_Chiaki… I don’t have any strength left… I can’t stop... All the World’s Evils._

Chiaki didn’t reply. The wind rushed in her ears as she jumped over the uneven and cracked ground of the damaged bunker, headed directly towards the office once more.

_Chiaki, do you understand?_

_Yes,_ she replied, surprising herself with her own resoluteness.

With Remia’s gun in hand, she entered the office. She moved around the desk and saw it once more.

The window to the Ley Line.

She knelt down to it and started looking at the edges, seeing if there was a clasp or handle that she could use to open the window. It didn’t look like there was. She was running out of time.

_Chiaki, what are you doing?_

She pointed the barrel of Remia’s gun at the window, directly at the center. She braced herself and pulled the trigger. The glass seemed to bounce, and cracked, but the bullet didn’t penetrate.

She reached forward and pulled the bullet from the glass, and re-aimed the pistol, directly at the same place her first shot was at.

_Chiaki, talk to me!_

She pulled the trigger, and her second bullet ripped into the barrier.

 _I’m saving everyone_ , she finally responded.

_What are you talking about? What are you doing?_

_The same thing you would._

She removed the second bullet, placed the gun, and pulled the trigger. The third bullet tore into the glass.

_You’re not… you’re not going to Detonate the entire Ley Line, are you!? Chiaki, don’t be absurd, there’s no way you’d survive!_

Chiaki tried to swallow the knot in her throat.

_I know._

_Just… just wait a little bit, don’t do anything!_

_There’s not that much time._

_ChiakI!_

The fourth bullet fired.

 _You know…_ Chiaki spoke to him, smiling to herself shakily. _...you were right. I don’t need you. I’m free to live however I want._

_Chiaki, please…!_

_But… it's not about what I need. I’d have_ wanted _you in my life. No doubt about that._

The fifth.

_Please, listen to me… you can’t do this. What will all of this have been for?_

_You know that better than anyone. So do I._

_Don’t! Just… stop and be safe. Please._

The sixth and final bullet ripped through the window in its entirety. Chunks of the glass ripped open, leaving a hole in the center of the glass. Chiaki reached out her hand. It was small enough to be able to fit, but just barely.

Her hand touched the earth beneath the window, and she found it surprisingly cold.

But the searing heat of Mana suddenly devoured her hand, sending pain all the way up her arm. She let out a gasp.

_Chiaki!_

It burned her. It burned everything inside of her, and threatened to burn her very soul. It was too much for her. It was too much for anyone.

But she didn’t need to take it. She didn’t need to absorb it. She just needed it to save the world.

Or at the very least, a lot of people she didn’t know.

She shut out the pain. She shut out the view into the Ley Line that put her state of mind in peril. 

“Berserker, I’m… I’m okay,” she forced the words out her throat.

She stopped herself, her gaze looking off into nowhere, generally in the direction she assumed Berserker was.

“I’m...” she repeated. “I’m okay.”

She could see him. Wounded, perhaps. The faint glow of the Ariadne Thread illuminating him. That look of concern on his face.

What did he see of her? Was she wounded? Did he see her angry eyebrows? Could he see her face?

She smiled. She knew. Maybe he did, too.

 _You’re my best friend, and my hero, and I love you,_ she said to him.

_Chiaki… I…_

_So thank you,_ she continued as the light beneath her vision began to grow brighter. She kept her eyes on his phantom, in front of her. _Thank you for everything._

There were no tears at the end. She had rushed in so quickly that she didn’t properly have the time to consider the ramifications. Her incoming destiny. It didn’t matter to her.

But that’s just who she was.

That’s why she was a hero, too.

* * *

The ground rumbled. The earth opened. The world stopped, just for a moment, to bear witness.

There was a crack that opened between Mt. Ganz and brushed the side of the town before heading off into the forest. Unbeknownst to most, at the end of the crack lay an old castle from an age now passed.

Crack opened into a chasm. The Mana within the Ley Line erupted out, ascending into the sky and touching the stars.

The red, monstrous, evil that flowed forth was at once both thrown into the air from the force of its eruption, and began to be incinerated. Purified by destruction. 

And the hole at the center of things could not keep its place in space and collapsed in on itself. But the chain reaction from the Ley Line affected it, reaching far back into the recesses of the hole before its closure. Inside that otherworldly place, in a realm that human eyes could not comprehend, every last bit of red was burned away. Nothing remained.

And when the dust settled, and the lights reaching into the heavens began to die down, the world returned to its rotation as if nothing had happened.

There was still some residual blast and sparks here and there, ensuring that every last piece of Mana was dried up and used. Ultimately efficient to the end.

The scar in the Earth, stretching from the mound once known as Mt. Ganz to the absolute nothingness that once marked a cowboy’s grave, was the only memorial left to this phenomenon.

The last memory of the world of Magecraft, ended today.

* * *

There was a man with a wounded leg reuniting with his fiance.

There was a weak-looking woman, talking to anyone and everyone, as if the mere act of speaking elated her.

There was a sickly girl being attended to by two men, one older and one younger, but despite her coughing, she looked happy.

And then there was Wilfred Mannheim, the former owner of the Mannheim Yacht Charter, sitting and watching them all.

It was the day after. He had done his best to use the yachts in his docks to ferry people away from the town. People heralded him as a hero. Not that he got people out quickly enough.

He had gotten a thousand, perhaps two, out before that brilliant light that erased the monster from the horizon.

At sunrise, the Harwey Plutocracy arrived, claiming to be relief services. Apparently, the Harweys had bartered the land away from the former government by the promise of saving these people from disaster.

Had the light from the earth not shown up and destroyed the monster, the Harweys would’ve arrived about three hours too late to save anyone. At least by Mannheim's calculation. Not that he was well-versed in math and such things.

Still, he was heralded as a genius. All he had done was give away the yachts to those that wanted to get out. He hadn’t even saved a tenth of the population this way.

Mannheim didn’t feel like a hero. All he had done was what he had assumed _those four_ would’ve done.

The tall man with a golden string around his arm, the girl who could heal with a touch, the man with the lightning bolt tattoo on his face, and finally, the clever and mysterious Mr. Horse. He would’ve been willing to bet his life on them being at the center of that battle the night before.

Compared to what they had done for him, and likely everyone here, Mannheim’s actions were absolutely nothing.

And yet he was the one the people accredited for saving people in times of crisis. None of these people knew the truth. That he was just an overweight, middle-aged, moderately-skilled businessman with a stutter, attempting to replicate the heroism of the true saviours of the town.

A passing man who he didn’t even know grasped his hand. “Thank you! Thank you!” he said, before turning and moving away. Mannheim didn’t even have the time to respond before the man was lost to the bustling crowd of people.

Mannheim swallowed and went back to looking at the crowd. He spied Harwey’s medical workers helping people. He also spied their private military brandishing weapons. Herding people like cattle.

It was obviously a power-play by the Harweys to grab up more land and people.

Mannheim bristled. No… if he wasn’t careful, the Harweys would take credit for all this. He was thankful for their medical support and relief services, of course, but them propping themselves up as the true heroes?

Mannheim stood up, straightening his poorly tailored suit.

If anyone was going to take credit, Mannheim was going to make certain that the Harweys weren’t the one to do it. He didn't like the idea of taking credit himself, either.

So until the day that he could meet them again, and thank them properly… he’d look after these people. As best he could, anyway.

* * *

Before the sun had risen, however, on the night previous…

Berserker was knelt, looking up at the night sky. He smiled to himself. He reached out a finger.

“Orion, there. A good hunter, and a powerful warrior. He never got many stories about himself, of course. Mostly remembered for dying, sadly.”

He looked down to his lap. Chiaki lay there, eyes closed, hands by her sides, resting.

Berserker looked back up. “You already saw Chiron. He’s responsible for half these stars even being in the sky. Including _that_ one,” Berserker smirked, pointing over at Heracles. “I suppose I shouldn’t be so judgemental. He did do some truly incredible things. Highly improbable.”

The gold aura showed up again, and he felt himself slowly coming apart. He snarled and closed his eyes, grunting. The glowing stopped momentarily once more.

He had been holding it off for about an hour now. He wouldn’t let it take him just yet. It was draining of him to do, physically and mentally, but… no, not yet.

He’d keep her company for as long as he could.

He opened his eyes, and the stars greeted him once more.

“You know… even the Minotaur was put into a constellation. He deserves it. A truly fearsome opponent. I wonder what would’ve happened had he been taken to Chiron to be trained instead of being locked away in some god forsaken box.”

He looked down again. The wind gently brushed her hair into her eyes, so Berserker picked and moved them out of the way. “Yeah… I’m not terribly entertained either. Not every constellation is a winner.”

He looked back up. “But there's no more room for stars up there. Nor for anything substantial or recognizable like Orion or Heracles.”

The golden glow interrupted him once more. He gritted his teeth. It slipped from him for a moment, and he faded away a little more. He growled in frustration and focused, keeping himself stable. In the same place. He wasn’t going anywhere.

He opened his eyes once more. The wind alerted him to the fact that they were alone. Just them and the stars.

“Though you know… I think even just single stars would be nice. Just tucked away in some forgotten corner of the sky. That would be… wonderful, wouldn’t it? And some curious person, eons from now, would look at those stars and look up their history out of curiosity. And they’d find one star named Remia, and learn about some fool with a hat and a gun. They’d find another named Tohsaka, a powerful archer and mage. And of course… there’d be one named Chiaki. Chiaki Nakazawa. The girl who held lightning in her hand, and never turned down a person in need. Who looked angry… but was truly the most wonderful human being I’d ever met…”

Tears blurred his vision, obscuring the lights in the sky.

“My hero… who I… I couldn’t…”

Something touched his cheek, startling him. He didn’t understand it at first. He furrowed his brow and looked down, the tears clearing and letting him see.

Chiaki, eyes closed, but with a smile on her face, had reached up and zapped him with her Lightning Cestus.

“Got you…” she murmured.

Berserker just stared at her.

Her hand fell back, resting on her stomach. She nestled her head slightly, as if just adjusting herself in her sleep.

There were no words Berserker could speak. Not right away.

He smiled. His hand, wrapped in the Ariadne Thread, slipped into hers. He leaned down and kissed her on her forehead before straightening up once more.

“Right… sorry. I suppose you’ve finally earned a good night’s rest,” Berserker whispered.

He felt tired. A result of his defiance. He had been holding on too long.

The gold returned. He let it come. It was alright. It would be alright.

“I think… I’ll join you…” Berserker muttered.

And there, together, they disappeared, sailing into the sky one last time.

The cloud of golden particles lifted up, and got lost among the stars.

* * *

The door opened. Saber saw Travick exit, close the door behind him, and walk over to Saber, sitting next to him.

They sat in relative silence. The hospital was still quite busy around them.

Saber was wearing torn up jeans and a plain white t-shirt. It was what the relief services had given him.

It had taken him a while to understand that the Grail… or Angra Mainyu, either one, had incarnated him. He got to live on, without the need of a contract or Mana. Whether or not his Noble Phantasm was still capable of operating was a mystery to him. He didn’t want to risk it.

“So…” Saber eventually asked, “How is she?”  
“...She’s recovered excellently. The little time she’s spent away from you has allowed her body to heal somewhat. She’s not back to full strength yet… especially after all of what just happened… but she’s better than she has been in a long time,” Travick answered.

“I see,” Saber replied.

“At least, that’s how she’s doing physically. She’s still quite distraught over losing one of her only friends.”

Saber nodded. “It's what's necessary.”

Travick nodded. “She knows.”

Saber stood up, picking up the backpack lying beside him and putting it on. “Then I guess that's that.”

“Saber…” Travick spoke, looking at him.

Saber turned and looked at him, meeting his gaze.

Travick blinked. “I’m sorry.”

Saber arched an eyebrow. “You really shouldn’t be. You did what was best for her.”

“Yes, but I didn’t do it in the best way. I threw you out. I should’ve given you the opportunity to explain yourself to me, and to her. I’ve… failed her twice the same way.”

Saber thought for a moment. “Well, I’ve literally done nothing _but_ fail since I got here, so I think you’re good.”

Travick, for the first time in Saber’s recollection, smiled. “Yes. But a true failure is one who refuses to learn when he falls. You were her friend. You treat her like she’s a person… and I did not understand that. And for that, I am sorry. To you and to her.”

“Being sorry won’t fix anything, believe me.”

“No, but it is the necessity that allows for growth.”

“Are you just keeping me here so you can spout one-liners at me?”

Travick actually laughed. “That does sound like me, doesn’t it?”

He stood up, showing Saber the case he had been carrying. Now that Saber got a better look, it looked quite familiar.

“You forgot this,” Travick explained, holding it out for him to take.

Saber slowly reached forward and took the case. He unlatched the lock and peeked in.

His sword.

“You… why…?” Saber asked, truly confused, looking at Travick.

“You wouldn’t be much of a Saber without a sword. Trussa insisted.”

Saber looked down at it again. He closed the case and locked it. He shook his head.

“Why are you doing this? Why did Berserker save me? Why would Trussa… after everything I’ve done… I mean, I literally just tried to end the world. Why are _any_ of you giving me the time of day?”

Travick was busy fishing something out of his jacket pocket. “Must I explain it over and over? She enjoys your company. You are her friend, Saber. Is that a concept that is so difficult to understand?”

Having found what he was looking for, Travick pulled out some mysterious device and handed it to Saber.

Saber looked at it. “And what is this? Some other magical device that will protect me?”

“It’s a _cell phone_ , imbecile. Her number has already been put in, so all you have to do is type her name and select the button that comes up. Trussa would like you to call at least twice a week.”

Saber blinked. “What?”

“Daeva Avesta draws Mana from the people around you. As long as you aren’t around Trussa, she will be safe. You can still talk to her from a distance.”

Saber arched an eyebrow, reaching for the phone. “She insists on a lot of things, huh?”

“This time, _I_ insist. I quite like the sound of her humming. She’s decided that she wants to try and become a singer.”

Saber just looked at the phone before sliding it into his pocket. “Right. Okay. Anything else?”

Travick thought for a moment. “Take care of yourself, Saber.”

Saber scratched the top of his head. He eventually nodded. Then he turned and walked out of the hospital.

The sun bore down on him hotly. It was going to be a hell of a walk to… wherever he was going. Maybe he should just pick a direction and start going, see where he ends up. Then again… he wasn’t even sure there was a way out of this town that wasn’t by boat.

He quickly picked the phone out of his back pocket as he began to walk down the road. Just as Travick had said, her name popped up, and he pressed it.

“Hello? Saber?” she spoke through it after she had picked up.

“Uh… hi.”

“You’re calling already?”

“Yes. Well. It just occurred to me that I have absolutely no idea where I am going or what I am doing. I don’t even have a firm grasp on what the world is like, what nations exist, or how to get out of town. So… I was wondering if you could help.”

He heard her giggle through the line. “I can tell you quite a bit. My education about the world was… extensive. I always wanted to travel around the world. I never got the opportunity.”

Saber nodded, and looked toward the coast. “Travel the world, huh? And you’d do that… by boat?”

Trussa giggled again. “That’s one way.”

“Alright then,” Saber replied, heading towards the dock. “Tell me about everywhere you’ve ever wanted to go.”

Trussa was quiet for a moment. Saber could hear the rustling of paper in the background. When Trussa came back, she sounded excited. It made Saber smile.

“Well, first of all, there’s Iceland…”

Their conversation lasted for hours.

THE END


	26. [Servant Stats and Authors Notes]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's something fun I think you all might want to see. Here are the Servant sheets I had for each of the servants, and some author's notes to go along with them. You know, if anyone was interested.

**Personal Info:**

**Name:** Zahhak

**Also Known As:** Azi Dahaka, the Son of Angra Mainyu, Prince of Daemons

**Height:** 167 cm

**Weight:** 50 kg

**Place of Origin:** Iranian Mythology/Zoroastrianism

**Likes:** Praise, Evil

**Dislikes:** Looking Foolish, Getting Caught/Called Out

**Talents:** Fooling Himself, Slipping Away Without Facing Repercussions

**Natural Enemy:** Himself, Angra Mainyu

**Class:** Saber

**Other Potential Classes:** Rider, Caster

**Alignment:** Chaotic Evil

**Parameters:**

**Str:** D

**End:** E

**Agi:** E

**Luck:** A

**Mana:** C

**NP:** C

**Class Skills:**

**Magic Resistance** \- E - Cannot cancel spells, but magic damage is reduced somewhat.

**Personal Skills:**

**Protection from Elementals** \- B - A blessing granted to Zahhak by several Daevas. A composite skill of several “Protections from”-type skills. The related protections are “Wind”, “Lightning”, “Water”, and “Earth”. Nullifies attacks of these elements.

**Clairvoyance** \- A- - Zahhak can foresee future events in his sleep… but he is likely to merely dismiss them as dreams and forget about them.

**Mana Burst (Shadow)** \- C - A version of Mana Burst that infuses weapons with Magical Energy that imparts a shadowy effect. This version doesn’t reinforce Attack or Defense, like other Mana Bursts, and repurposes it for Agility exclusively, causing Zahhak’s speed to increase to extremely high levels for short amounts of time. 

**Noble Phantasms:**

**Daeva Avesta: Corrupted False Inscription** \- Anti-Unit - An innate ability by Zahhak that is a representation of his right to rule over the world as Azi Dehaka. It automatically drains the Mana of the people around him, fueling him, though he has no real use for it besides releasing it through Mana Burst (Shadow). The effect is increased if the target in question likes Zahhak, and even further if they accept him as a King or Leader. Zahhak himself is unaware of the ability, so he cannot utilize it to it’s true effectiveness, but he may use it subconsciously. - C

**Author’s Notes:**

Zahhak, the Saber of Failing Miserably.

In the original draft, Saber was Sir Bors, but I changed it after I changed the Main Character away from Saber’s Master (originally a woman named Cassie Beckland) to Chiaki. I liked the idea of a Saber being the weakest in a war when the usual standard was for them to be the strongest and to always win. He ended up winning anyway, so I wonder why I even tried. Tying him in to Angra’s lore was a bit of a challenge considering that Angra isn’t really a god, so I had to find a way to justify how he could be the son of a guy who really couldn’t have had children.

I was inspired by the archetype of that character that just sort of lucks into everything going their way, and other characters fear them because they think he did it on purpose. He ended up being more of the “Team Rocket”-type of villain. Oh well.

I’m actually quite proud of his skillset, even going so far as to invent a new Mana Burst and “Protection from-” skill. I rarely make my own skills, so when I do it well (in my own opinion, anyway), I tend to be biased towards that design. 

I feel that he’s the kind of servant you could only attain victory in a Grail War with if you were an extraordinarily powerful magus, but those extraordinarily powerful maguses would’ve summoned a better servant in the first place, so he’s basically an insta-loss in any other Grail War situation.

* * *

**Personal Info:**

**Name:** Crazy Horse

**Also Known As:** Thasunke Witko, Cha-O-Ha

**Height:** 181 cm

**Weight:** 73 kg

**Place of Origin:** North American History

**Likes:** Children, Nature

**Dislikes:** Fighting, Glory

**Talents:** Accidentally Wooing Women, Hunting, Reading People

**Natural Enemy:** General Custer

**Class:** Archer

**Other Potential Classes:** Rider, Berserker

**Alignment:** Neutral Good

**Parameters:**

**Str:** D

**End:** C

**Agi:** A

**Luck:** B

**Mana:** D

**NP:** C+

**Class Skills:**

**Magic Resistance** \- C - Cancel spells with a chant below two verses. Cannot defend against Magecraft on the level of High-Thaumaturgy and Greater Rituals.

**Independent Action** \- A - It is possible to take action even without a Master. However, to use Noble Phantasms of great magical energy consumption, backup from the Master is necessary.

**Personal Skills:**

**Charisma** \- C- - Though he never had a way with words, his mere presence on the battlefield boosted the morale of his allies.

**Marksmanship** \- C - When using firearms, accuracy increases tenfold. At  _ C-Rank _ , sniping with a rifle is possible.

**Guardian Beast** \- B - Crazy Horse’s spirit animal is, of course, the Crazy Horse of the Spirit World.

**Animal Dialogue** \- A - Complete understanding, even of subtle nuances in meaning, can be conveyed between himself and animals.

**Noble Phantasm:**

**Bloody Cloak: His Final Residence** \- Anti-Unit (Self) - A cloak that Crazy Horse wore when he died, called “his residence” after he died. Slowly regenerates his Health and Mana, returning to full by the end of any 24 hour period. Since it, in a sense, counts as special clothing, he cannot be wearing it in order to activate his Ultimate Noble Phantasm. - C

**Red-Tailed Hawk Prophecy: Vision of the Crazy Horse** \- Anti-World - The prophecy foretold to Crazy Horse in his dream manifested as a Noble Phantasm. As long as he does not take any War trophies, and wears only simple clothing, he can access it. It allows him to both see and interact with the “Spirit World”, the true world, of which the world we perceive is simply a shadow that is cast by it. He can create pockets into this Spirit World, either moving through it, shooting projectiles through it, or causing attacks to be lost in it. From a person in this World’s perspective, it appears that he can change the location of his projectiles, allowing him to “fire an arrow that never misses”, or it would appear that he was somehow teleporting without the use of any Mana, and making attacks disappear before they can even reach him. - EX

**Author’ Notes:**

Crazy Horse, the Archer of Not What You’d Expect. (I say that in terms of how well he ended up doing in the war, not so much his personality.)

Crazy Horse is one of only three servants that remained as the same identity from the original drafts. I wanted more Native American heroes and I sucked at making Archers, so the first one I made just kinda stuck. I think it worked out for the best.

I remember wanting to make him distinguishable from Geronimo, but they became quite similar looking back at it… unfortunately I discovered part way through the drafting process that Crazy Horse was quiet, though intelligent and inexplicably charming. I attempted to represent this in his plain way of talking, but who knows if that got through. Either way, I had no other recourse since there was no one who really fit the story like he did.

Another regret is that he never showed off all his abilities the way I had originally intended them. The closest I got was in his fight with Assassin. Unfortunately, as the story went on, I realized that I had forgotten about him - having not revealed his identity when it should have been, as well as not showcasing or explaining his Noble Phantasms super well. Maybe I should’ve called him the Archer of Being Forgotten…

My biggest regret of all is that I can’t draw so there’s very little eye candy from my main source of male eye candy.

* * *

**Personal Info:**

**Name:** Woden

**Also Known As:** Odin, Young God of War

**Height:** 185 cm

**Weight:** 82 kg

**Place of Origin:** Germanic Mythology

**Likes:** Hard Work, Knowledge

**Dislikes:** Hot-Headedness, Laziness

**Talents:** Strategy, Drawing/Painting

**Natural Enemy:** His Son, His Brother

**Class:** Lancer

**Other Potential Classes:** Saber, Archer, Rider, Caster, Assassin, Berserker

**Alignment:** Lawful Neutral

**Parameters:**

**Str:** A

**End:** B

**Agi:** A+

**Luck:** D

**Mana:** A

**NP:** B

**Class Skills:**

**Magic Resistance** \- B+ - Cancel spells with a chant below three verses. Even if targeted by High-Thaumaturgy and Greater Rituals, it is difficult for them to be affected. In the case of Rune Magic, Woden is completely immune.

**Personal Skills:**

**Primeval Rune** \- EX - The knowledge about Runes that come from older eras. Those with knowledge of Primeval Runes can also make use of the classic Rune Magic. As he is the one who invented Rune Magic, Woden can go so far as to create new Runes and combine their powers for varied effects.

**Divinity** \- A+ - Woden’s divinity is naturally high, being a younger version of the Elder God Odin.

**Clairvoyance** \- C(A+) - Though Odin’s original rank in this skill is  _ A+ _ , it is reduced severely due to Woden being an aspect of Odin before he obtained wisdom from Mimir. He can temporarily restore his original rank with the correct runes, but it would not last long, and doing so would distort his Saint Graph, thus destabilizing his existence.

**Noble Phantasm:**

**Gungnir Prototype: First Declaration of the Elder God** \- Anti-Army - A spear that, when thrown, could decimate an army. More powerful than the Gungnir wielded by Elder God Odin, but it loses all other capabilities it would otherwise have, such as “Rune Creation” and “Thaumaturgy Nullification”. - B

**Gungnir Prototype: Piercing Lance** \- Anti-Unit - A spear that allows the wielder to always strike the opponent, no matter how unskilled it’s user. This manifests as though every strike were one from it’s later legendary off-shoot incarnation,  _ Gae Bolg _ . However, though it consumes about the same mana as  _ Gae Bolg _ , this weapon only ensures that the user strikes any point of the opponent’s body, not their heart directly. Even so, it is a powerful weapon that Woden uses with nearly every strike. - B+

**Author’s Notes:**

Woden, the Lancer of Expecting Too Much From Yourself.

In the original draft, he was Yennenga - since I wanted a good balance between Male and Female Servants (and I’m one of those fans unwilling to genderbend a historical figure to achieve that). Unfortunately, once I realized how well Woden would mesh with Theseus, I had to replace Yennenga for the drama points. Luckily, this change happened pretty early on, so Yennenga didn’t have much to do in the story at that point. I also was going to make the Master of Lancer be Rin, with her partner (Master of Archer) being Waver, but I ended up scrapping that at some point… don’t exactly remember when. The release of the Heaven’s Feel movies probably had something to do with it.

He was also going to be much more bashful and embarrassed due to his Master’s flirtatious tendencies, but since she got replaced with an all-business Master, that got scrapped. I guess if he ever shows up in other things I write, I’ll have to put that in - he’s terrible with romance due to him simultaneously being a young man in his prime, but wanting to be an old wiseman “above such things.'' He was also supposed to be a pretty boy, to make it even funnier that he wasn’t a ladies' man, but… maybe that’d make him too anime-protagonist-y? Not that many anime protagonists are THAT pretty, but I digress.

He’s definitely the most powerful servant in the war with the exception of St. Michael (who’s a living, breathing, cheat code anyway). If he and Berserker were to fight seriously, with no holds barred, Lancer would win, though barely.

Since he’s a Counter Guardian, the idea of him showing up in other stories does seem a bit more plausible now… hmm...

* * *

**Personal Info:**

**Name:** Davy Jones

**Also Known As:** Saint David, The Sailor’s Devil, Ghost of Jonah

**Height:** 199 cm

**Weight:** 13 kg (No Flesh)

**Place of Origin:** English Folklore

**Likes:** Drowning, Scaring People, The Sea

**Dislikes:** Humans

**Talents:** Fishing

**Natural Enemy:** Saint David

**Class:** Rider

**Other Potential Classes:** Caster (as Saint David), Ruler (as Saint David)

**Alignment:** Chaotic Evil

**Parameters:**

**Str:** B

**End:** D

**Agi:** B

**Luck:** E

**Mana:** D

**NP:** EX

**Class Skills:**

**Magic Resistance** \- A - Cancel spells of  _ A-Rank _ or below, no matter what  _ High-Thaumaturgy _ it is. In practice, the Servant is untouchable to modern magi, so it would not be an exaggeration to title the Servant a " _ Magus Killer _ ".

**Personal Skills:**

**Voyager of the Storm** \- E - Though he technically was a ship captain and indeed owns many vessels, he never actually was at the helm, and therefore only owns this skill as a technicality.

**Golden Rule** \- A - Has obtained a thousand treasures from a thousand ruined vessels. Though he has no need for such riches, he can still access them.

**Innocent Monster** \- EX - Though his original identity is that of Saint David, his inspiration of the legend of Davy Jones has completely changed his form altogether into a different Heroic Spirit while he has been summoned as a Rider. It is unknown if he even remembers his true identity.

**Battle Continuation** \- A+ - Continues fighting so long as there is a single piece of him remaining. In Davy Jones’ case, he can possess corpses with his Spiritual Core. Though these bodies are weaker than his original one, his resilience and ability to hide make him difficult to kill.

**Noble Phantasms:**

**Ran’s Sea: Corpse of the Sea Mother** \- Anti-Life - As an aspect of death itself, pertaining to drowning at sea, he is the second-coming of Ran, and has power of her dominion. Allows him to summon floods of water, howling winds, and can bring back any shipwreck or treasure lost to the sea over the course of time. The water is an ever-active curse, and forces the breath out of anyone who touches it, as well as saps their magical energy. - EX

**Davy Jones’ Locker: Possession of the Sea Devil** \- Anti-Death - Davy Jones’ ultimate Noble Phantasm. All those that have drowned over the course of the war can be summoned up as an undead monster for Davy Jones to use. It is even effective on Heroic Spirits. Davy Jones can possess these bodies, either to hide in, or use as his own. As it is a Noble Phantasm that defies death in it’s conventional sense, it is classified as “Anti-Death”. - EX

**Author’s Notes:**

Davy Jones, the Rider of Getting Ignored. (Alternatively the Rider of Substitutions).

Rider was the only class that changed identities more than once in the drafting process. In the original draft, it was going to be Ching Shih, but was changed to Hannibal Barca since Yennenga ended up getting changed and a lot of Ching Shih’s planned scenes up to that point involved Yennenga. However, even though I drafted MOST of the story with Hannibal, I ended up changing him since 1) there wasn’t really a way for me to showcase his powers the way I wanted, and 2) I realized that there were too many “rival” type characters for Berserker to face, so I changed him just a month or so before beginning writing on the story. Yes, Davy Jones was mostly an afterthought, but I had him prepared a while back and I thought he was fitting since the original servant was going to be a pirate and I needed another “bad guy” servant. (Lilith and Hannibal teaming up made less sense in my mind).

His personality is mostly one note, but he’s pretty easy to write because of that. If he were to ever become aware of his existence as Saint David, he’d be much more complex but, much like Gilles de Rais, I feel like that would also kill a lot of his charm. I dunno, maybe I’ll write a side-story to that effect but until then...

Power-wise, he’s the most situational. Summoned into a Grail War without the ocean nearby, he’s C-Tier. With the ocean, he’s at least A-Tier. He didn’t get to showcase a lot of his power until near the end of his tenure, where he ended up jobbing to the real big bad. He also has high Magic Resistance as a side effect. I realized that no one in the war had A-Ranked Magic Resistance at that point, so I upped his rank a notch or two. I figured it would still kind of work, what with him being a Saint AND a Demon of sorts. He ended up being very powerful. If not for True Saber, he might’ve ended up being the main villain.

Plus, living Skeletons are just really goddamn cool.

* * *

**Personal Info:**

**Name:** Lilith

**Also Known As:** Mother of Vampires, Serpent-Woman, The Betraying Wife

**Height:** 178 cm

**Weight:** 66 kg

**Place of Origin:** Judaism

**Likes:** Blood, Sex, Vengeance

**Dislikes:** Celibacy, “The Greater Good”

**Talents:** Hiding

**Natural Enemy:** Saint Michael the Archangel

**Class:** Caster

**Other Potential Classes:** Assassin, Berserker, Avenger, Ruler

**Alignment:** Chaotic Neutral

**Parameters:**

**Str:** C

**End:** C

**Agi:** C

**Luck:** D

**Mana:** A+

**NP:** E

**Class Skills:**

**Territory Creation** \- EX - The creation of an “ _ Eden _ ” is possible.

**Item Construction** \- D - Creation of small objects is possible.

**Personal Skills:**

**Natural Monster** \- C - As she was one of the first Phantasmal Species on Earth, she would normally have this at  _ Rank-EX _ , but when summoned as a Caster (her human form), this is reduced drastically. She still retains fairly high parameters for a Caster, as well as having the horns and tail typical of a Succubus, but her parameters are still not as high as they would normally be.

**Blood-Sucking** \- A+ - As a Succubus, she drains magical energy from men, usually through their sperm, but she has it at a high enough rank to gain energy from the exchange of any of their fluids.

**Shapeshift** \- C - Can transform various parts of her body into animal parts, and may fully transform into animals themselves. Should she do this, she can hide her Mana source from other servants, but it also reduces her Parameters for as long as she is hiding.

**Witchcraft** \- EX - Her style of Witchcraft is heavily in the Western form, but she has good skill in Eastern forms as well.

**Divinity** \- E- - Though she was the first woman on Earth, she has fallen from grace.

**Noble Phantasms:**

**Eden: Lost Paradise** \- Barrier - A Reality Marble used by Lilith that is relatively small compared to most Reality Marbles, perhaps being 50 meters across at most. However, the world created is of Lilith’s memory of the Garden of Eden, having lush plants that have the most delicious of fruit on it. The Reality Marble itself is special in that it’s border is undetectable from normal reality, representing the fact that Eden is lost to humankind. It can still be sensed from other realities, however. It has no other offensive capabilities, and none of the fruit are magical in nature, so it is essentially just a space used by Lilith to hide her location and Mana. - E

**Samael Descent: Army of God’s Wrath** \- Anti-Humanity - Summons the army of one of her husbands, the Archangel Samael, consisting of two million angels tasked with slaying humanity. Samael himself can appear as a Beast-Class Servant through this ability, but the Mana required would require the sacrifice of thousands of souls per minute. However, Lilith is also capable of summoning only a few angels at a time for menial tasks or for reconnaissance, should she wish. - EX

**Author’s Notes:**

Lilith, the Caster of “Most Writers are Male”.

In the original draft, she was an Avenger-class who invaded the war alongside a Ruler-class Saint Michael, but when I decided to make it a simple seven Servant war, she was made the Caster, and the original Caster (Adolf Hitler) got turned into her Master. So she’s been a part of the story since the beginning, even if her role within it has changed greatly. I didn’t get to use her as much as I would’ve liked, but that's what happens when you decide that you’re only going to have one big bad.

I originally wanted her to be a woman that was confident in her sexuality to contrast Chiaki (and also offend Sir Bors, when he was gonna be in the story), but I think I ended up making her too generic. I also wanted to avoid any misandry, since I feel like the two ways you write Lilith in modern fiction is either as a body-horror-womb-monster or a sexy-traitorous-man-hater, and I didn’t want to do either. Hopefully I towed the line well, but she ended up being the one character I’m most dissatisfied with in terms of my ability to write her compellingly.

As far as Casters go, she’s very physically capable, with very powerful witchcraft at her disposal. She’d be able to outdo most other Casters in magical ability alone, let alone physical capability (though there are a few Casters who have higher Parameters than her). Considering she’s the origin of the “Succubus” legend, she’d be ridiculously powerful in any class that allowed her to manifest those abilities. As a Caster, she’s kind of caught between her “innocent human” form (as a Ruler) and her “unstoppable monster” form (everything else). I hate that she got overshadowed by most of the other Servants. She’s actually very strong!

Another eye candy servant that can’t be shown off due to my lack of ability to draw… *sigh*.

* * *

**Personal Info:**

**Name:** Theseus

**Also Known As:** The Hero from Thebes, Minotaur Slayer, Wise King of Athens

**Height:** 215 cm

**Weight:** 181 kg

**Place of Origin:** Greek Mythology

**Likes:** Party Girls, Trying New Things, Heroes

**Dislikes:** Condescending People, Superiors, Himself

**Talents:** Wrestling, Sailing

**Natural Enemy:** Athena

**Class:** Berserker

**Other Potential Classes:** Saber, Lancer, Rider, Caster, Assassin

**Alignment:** Chaotic Good

**Parameters:**

**Str:** A+

**End:** A

**Agi:** B

**Luck:** C

**Mana:** B

**NP:** EX

**Class Skills:**

**Mad Enhancement** \- (C) - Theseus’s Mad Enhancement has been negated by his Ariadne’s String, but is normally Ranked-C. Because it is negated, he doesn’t receive any Rank-Ups.

**Personal Skills:**

**Natural Body** \- A - As a semi-divine being who lifted a large boulder at a very young age, his Strength Parameter gains a plus modifier. Furthermore, even without training he's still beyond brawny. No matter how many calories he ingests, his body shape will not change.

**Divinity** \- B - As the son of Poseidon, he gains immunity to water-related curses and a plus modifier on Agility when fighting in water.

**Natural Born Genius** \- C - Has the ability to learn at an unprecedented rate. However, this is his natural ability to learn on his own. He has an aversion towards learning from other people.

**Eye of the Mind (True)** \- B - Over the course of his life, Theseus encountered a multitude of enemies. As such, he has garnered the Rank of B in this skill, though this could be higher in his “King” form.

**Noble Phantasms:**

**God Hand: Six Labours** \- Anti-Unit (Self) - Theseus can multiply himself into six copies of himself, replicating the six labours he completed in life. Each one is truly him and is capable of performing  _ God Hand _ , though the number of Theseus’ in the world cannot go above six. Due to the fact that there is only one  _ Ariadne Thread _ , all other Theseus’ will have access to their Mad Enhancement, and therefore have the related Rank-Ups gained from the skill. Mana increase for the Master increases as if they were the Master of 6 individual Servants, so it is something that cannot be used lightly. - EX

**Ariadne Thread: Guiding Love** \- Anti-Unit (Self) - A golden string wrapped around Theseus’ arm that prevents any mental interference or alteration as long as Theseus wears it. Given to Theseus by Ariadne, who wished to aid him in defeating the Minotaur. Since the Minotaur was hidden away in an enchanted Labyrinth that would assault the mind of anyone who entered, Theseus would not only need a way back, accounting for the Thread’s incredible length, but he would also need something to defend himself from the barrage of magical mental interference. It has very low Mana cost, and could easily be upkept by an average Magus by today’s standards without any need for assistance from the Holy Grail or the servant from which it originates. - D

**Author’s Notes:**

Theseus, the Berserker of Fallen Heroes… that's not actually a bad name… I need to think of a dumber one, hold on…

Theseus, alongside Archer and Assassin, was pretty much the same from the original drafts from then to now. He originally wasn’t the Main Character’s servant, but since I had put so much effort into his backstory and personality, I decided the story would be more interesting from his and his Master’s perspective. He was originally going to be fodder for Sir Bors to show his power against, as Sir Bors’ Noble Phantasm was a direct counter to Theseus’ God Hand. Glad that ended up changing.

His personality really kind of got away from me. Theseus had always been a Greek legend I had been fascinated with, so it only seemed natural to make a servant with him… and then I found out that he was kind of an asshole (like most other Greek Heroes, admittedly, but I was still pretty new to researching mythologies at the time). I wanted to make him sympathetic, so I skewed the ideas from his legend away from the traditional ideas of being a Hero in Greece, and more towards a deconstruction of those ideas, with him wanting to be more of an all-loving hero, but getting broken along the way and succumbing to the will of the Gods instead. Now that I say it like that, he’s a bit similar to EMIYA, no? Of course, EMIYA was never so perverted, which was merely a decision on my part because I noticed that the Greek servants tended to act less perverted than the culture would have you stereotypically believe. Then Orion came out in Grand Order and made me look dumb. I tried to cross him over into “Chivalrous Pervert” because I still wanted him to be heroic in the traditional sense.

I imagine that if you were to make a “Top 10 Most Powerful Greek Servants” list, he would rank somewhere in the 5-7 region. Not as powerful as Heracles, Achilles, Medusa, or Orion, but not quite as weak as Perseus, Aias, or Cadmus. He’s about on par with Chiron and Odysseus. That said, I took a lot of notes from Heracles when I first made him, but I made him more of his own man after a while (much like how Theseus’ actual legends were forged as knock-offs of Heracles’). Since Berserker-class Theseus takes more from the “hero that completed six labours”, he doesn’t have the sword that he used to kill the Minotaur with, but I imagine that his Saber form would be the most powerful due to that legend. Not like I have any motivation to actually make his other forms.

The Berserker of B+-Tier? The Berserker of Almost the Most Powerful? The Berserker of Being Intelligent? Come to think of it, I also wanted a Berserker that was just plain crazy, since Grand Order tended to make Berserkers intelligent to some degree, so we didn’t get much of the “Heracles”, “Lancelot”, and “Lu Bu” style Berserker anymore. I wanted to change that, but must’ve forgotten somewhere along the line. Oops.

* * *

**Personal Info:**

**Name:** Guy of Gisbourne

**Also Known As:** Robin Hood, The Horsehide Mercenary

**Height:** 175 cm

**Weight:** 69 kg

**Place of Origin:** English Folklore

**Likes:** Nothing

**Dislikes:** Robin Hood

**Talents:** Acting, Identifying Weaknesses

**Natural Enemy:** Robin Hood

**Class:** Assassin

**Other Potential Classes:** (Each Class is a different person who has taken the name Robin Hood. Guy of Gisbourne can only ever be summoned as Assassin-class Robin Hood) Saber, Archer, Lancer, Rider, Caster, Berserker

**Alignment:** Neutral Evil

**Parameters:**

**Str:** D

**End:** D

**Agi:** B

**Luck:** A+

**Mana:** C

**NP:** C

**Class Skills:**

**Presence Concealment** \- D - Suitable for spying.

**Personal Skills:**

**Protection from Arrows** \- A - Years of studying an opponent’s weapon and trajectory of said weaponry has led to him being a master of dodging projectiles. Even if the projectile is assisted by magecraft or something similar, he can easily dodge out of the way. This skill doesn’t assist him in dodging against weapons with a long reach or attacks that have a widespread area of effect, like an explosion.

**True Name Discernment** \- E - An enemy’s Noble Phantasm’s True Name is revealed as soon as the user of this skill observes it. Obtained due to the fact that he identified Robin of Loxley based off his skill with a bow, and not his appearance (as Robin Hood was disguised at the time).

**Noble Phantasms:**

**Anonymous Sherwood: A Silent Killing in Sherwood Forest** \- Anti-Unit - An accidental Noble Phantasm, given to him because his corpse was passed off as “Robin Hood’s”, resulting in him becoming a pseudo-“Robin Hood” in death. Allows him to use modified versions of Robin Hood’s Noble Phantasms, “Yew Bow”, “No Face May King”, and “Sword of the Merry Men”. However, since he did not actually have the knowledge that the Robin Hoods who wielded these weapons in life had, he cannot activate their true effects, and has to rely on their passive effects, such as the poison of “Yew Bow” and the invisibility of “No Face May King”. - D

**Capull-Hyde: Horsehide** \- Anti-Unit (Self) - The only Noble Phantasm that can be said to belong to “Guy of Gisbourne”. It was a piece of protective clothing that made him identifiable from a distance. A worn horsehide that deflects melee attacks ranked C or below. - C

**Author’s Notes:**

Guy of Gisbourne, the Assassin of Being an Asshole.

The third and last servant who has remained unchanged from the original draft, this was actually one of the first Servants I made ever. He is, in a way, responsible for me writing this story in the first place. I wanted an Assassin that wasn’t a “battle assassin” like Sasaki Kojiro or Li Shuwen, and I wanted to do an Assassin-class Robin Hood (this was before I knew EXTRA existed). I switched focus to Guy of Gisborne since Robin Hood had already pretty much been done, and when I read the part about Robin Hood cutting off Guy’s head and passing it off as his own, the idea for Guy of Gisbourne technically being a “Robin Hood” came into my head. As far as servant concepts go, he’s probably my favorite.

Which is why it's so unfortunate that he’s an unlikable bastard. I remember making most other villains likable or sympathetic to  _ some _ degree, so I decided to go full-blown nuclear on Assassin, making him as unsympathetic as possible. He would still have character motivations that from his perspective made his actions justified. But that's the funny thing about justifications - if the audience (or the author) doesn’t buy them, it ends up as an excuse rather than a reason. His assholishness comes from a different place than Rider’s does, so I think I’m allowed to like Rider’s personality more than Assassin’s (see, that’s MY excuse).

I’ve always preferred servants that have a simple skillset, so being able to give him a relatively unique and simplified skillset really makes me like him more… but his skills, the more I think about it, don’t really gel well with each other or his NP, so he ends up being on the weaker end of Assassins. It wasn’t on purpose, but I think it makes sense.

One final note, if you like Assassin, that’s cool, I’m not saying you can’t like him. I’m just saying that I’m disappointed that this cool servant concept and design could have gone to a cooler dude.

* * *

**Personal Info:**

**Name:** Saint Michael the Archangel

**Also Known As:** Defender of Judaism, Binder of the Devil, The One Who is Like God

**Height:** 195 cm

**Weight:** 105 kg

**Place of Origin:** Judeo-Christianity

**Likes:** Humanity, Sappy Love Stories

**Dislikes:** People Who Forsake Themselves

**Talents:** None

**Natural Enemy:** None

**Class:** Saber

**Other Potential Classes:** Grand Saber, Ruler

**Alignment:** Lawful Good

**Parameters:**

**Str:** A+

**End:** A+

**Agi:** A+

**Luck:** A

**Mana:** A

**NP:** A~EX

**Class Skills:**

**Magic Resistance** \- EX - In addition to the Magic Resistance of the Saber Class, Michael demonstrates high Magic Resistance due to his status as an Archangel. 

** Personal Skills: **

**Attendant of Iron** \- A - As he protects all soldiers who pray to him, all the Master’s Attributes are “Ranked-Up” to the point that the Master can be seen as a weaker Heroic Spirit of their own.

**Mana Burst (Light)** \- B - Michael’s Mana Burst takes the form of Angel Wings on his back, and allows him to fly, as well as strengthen his blows when he needs to.

**Saint** \- A+ - As the only Archangel that is also a Saint, he can produce a multitude of Holy Shrouds with varied effects, but he mostly uses them for defensive tactics.

**Charisma** \- B+ - Michael not only rules over his own realm in Heaven, but commands God’s army of angelic warriors. His voice is a source of comfort, fear, and inspiration to many humans.

**Protection of the Faith** \- A++ - Michael’s strength comes not only from his own natural abilities, but from his faith in God. At this Rank, he can “empty” himself to become a vessel for the Lord’s will. While intervention like that can’t happen in a Grail War, the effect of emptying his mind allows him to fight freely, almost like  _ Instinct _ or  _ Eye of the Mind (False) _ would.

**Noble Phantasms:**

**Zevul: Sword of the Glorious Paradise** \- Anti-Army/Anti-World/??? - Michael’s sword, which embodies his rule over the Fourth Heaven. It has three seals in the form of scabbards on it. With all three seals, it is simply a standard A Rank Noble Phantasm with no special attributes. Once the first seal is removed, it grows to the level of an A++ Anti-Army Noble Phantasm, capable of firing blasts that destroy entire armies, which he used to defeat a pagan army assaulting Jerusalem. After the second scabbard is removed, it exponentially grows in power to an EX Anti-World Noble Phantasm. The final scabbard, which Michael loses access to when he isn’t summoned as Grand Saber, contains a Noble Phantasm that, were it ever released, would trigger a total World Line Collapse, potentially causing a chain reaction that destroys multiple parallel timelines. The final seal is Michael’s promise to destroy Earth and Hell and cast them into the Abyss at the End of Time. - A~EX

**Samael’s Belt: Right Hand of God** \- Anti-Divine/Anti-Demonic - A golden belt given to Michael by God when Samael fell from heaven. It shows his authority as the highest being besides God, and grants him immunity to both Holy and Demonic weapons and attacks. - A

**???: Chains of Heaven** \- Anti-Divine - A chain wielded by Michael during his battle with Samael in Shehaquim, with which he used to bind him and cast him into Hell, where Samael became Lucifer. It is unknown how, but it apparently fell from Heaven some time after the Garden of Eden was returned to Heaven, allowing a well-known Babylonian King to acquire it and use it. - Unknown Rank

**Author’s Notes:**

Saint Michael the Archangel, the Saber of HAX.

If you ever wanted to make just the most overpowered Servant you could think of, you can understand where I came from when I made this guy. I was raised Catholic, so Saint Michael is the closest thing to a “mythological badass” I was allowed to appreciate growing up (actually Saint George, too). He was originally a Ruler that would invade the war alongside an Avenger-class Lilith and a Beast-class of some kind, but I scrapped those when more details about the Beasts actually started coming out. I changed him to Saber and nerfed him a fair bit since he was too cool to really let go. He became a Gilgamesh-like enemy in that regard.

He was a blank slate personality-wise for a lot of the development process since I was unsure of how I was supposed to address Christian mythology from within the Fate franchise, specifically when it came to Angels. I eventually decided to just do my own thing, and made him very disconnected with humanity, even though he protected them - as an excuse for why he didn’t just outright murder his own Master for his obvious sinfullness. He ended up being a very good Final Boss for Theseus and that whole plotline, but it was purely coincidental, at least at first. I added in the “Stranger” bits since I thought his arrival in Chapter 18 would’ve been too sudden without proper build-up, and they allowed me to really try and accentuate his purpose of “trying to understand humanity while still carrying out your true purpose”. I have an idea for a side story about where he got that mindset, but we’ll see if it sees the light of day.

Do I need to talk about how powerful he is? You read the sheet (probably). He’s unashamedly OP, plain and simple. End of story.

Okay, not quite end of story. Like I said earlier, he actually got nerfed a bit since I realized that he was too powerful for the heroes to realistically overcome. His belt granted him  _ actual _ Authority, which would allow for minor reality warping, Zevul’s final form was unlocked even when he wasn’t a Grand Saber, and he had a fourth NP called  _ Keys to the Abyss _ , which allowed him to open a portal to hell that would swallow up enemies in a similar vein to  _ Gate of Skye _ , killing them instantly but with a lot more hellfire. Needless to say, I think it was necessary to nerf him.

_ Now, _ end of story.

* * *

**Personal Info:**

**Name:** Adolf Hitler

**Also Known As:** The Fuhrer of the Third Reich, Master of Caster

**Height:** 175 cm

**Weight:** 72 kg

**Place of Origin:** European History

**Likes:** Perfection, Art

**Dislikes:** Imperfection, Religion

**Talents:** Shouting, Strategy

**Natural Enemy:** Saint Michael the Archangel

**Class:** Caster

**Other Potential Classes:** Lancer, Rider, Berserker

**Alignment:** Lawful Evil

**Parameters:**

**Str:** E

**End:** E

**Agi:** E

**Luck:** A++

**Mana:** A

**NP:** -

** Class Skills: **

**Territory Creation** \- B - Creation of a "Workshop" becomes possible.

**Item Construction** \- E+++ - Hitler can instantaneously call to his hands any form of weapon used in World War II. It calls to mind a form of Projection Magecraft, but is much more instantaneous and is something more like a reflex.

**Personal Skills:**

**Charisma** \- A+ - When Hitler died, many of his subordinates reported that without his charismatic presence, it was as if a spell had been lifted from them. This skill is a result of being able to sell so many supposedly rational people on the concept of genocide.

**Blitzkrieg - Military Tactics** \- EX - A special form of Military Tactics, derived from his Military ability also known as “Blitzkrieg”. It grants bonuses to ally Parameters (mostly Agility and Strength), but can enhance all Parameters at a high enough Rank. At EX rank, it grants a double Rank-Up to Strength, Endurance, and Agility. These bonuses cannot last longer than 30 minutes, so the effect drops off after that.

**Eye for Art** \- B - If a servant is depicted in art, there is a good chance that Hitler will be able to discover their True Name.

**Witchcraft** \- C - It became generally accepted for National Socialists to dip into the occult in order to obtain higher power. For Hitler, his power is somewhat average.

**Mental Pollution** \- D - His mind is indeed twisted, but it is not at a very high rank. His evil is a result of a “misconception in logic somewhere” as opposed to “being born with a heart of evil”. As a result, this skill is hidden behind his natural Charisma quite easily.

**Noble Phantasms:**

**Holocaust: Burning Offering** \- Anti-Army - A Noble Phantasm that is the epitome of his “burning offering” of the Jewish race. The word Holocaust itself was only a term used to identify sacrifices to God, and in his own way, his actions during WW2 were just that, only his own ideologies took the place of “God”. Rather than this being a replication of the events themselves, it is a replication of the ideology behind the statement “those slaughtered were sacrifices”. In a Holy Grail War, any Heroic Spirits or Masters with unclaimed Command Seals who die are converted to Mana and a portion is transferred to Hitler (with the majority being sent to the Grail itself). He can effectively take approximately 50% of the Mana usually reserved for the Holy Grail. - A

**Author’s Notes:**

Adolf Hitler, the Caster of What a Tweest.

In every Author’s life, they will have to ask themselves the age-old question: “Should I put Nazis in my story?” I found my answer. “Why the hell not?” He was originally the Caster-class servant of this war, with his Master being Darnic Prestone, but then the thingie led to the thingie and he ended up being the Master of the Caster of this war. I think it's for the best since he’s a pretty weak Caster, all things considered, so he’s a much more viable threat when he’s the Master of another Servant. I also had to ask myself if it was worth keeping his identity a secret, and decided it was simply because I thought no one would expect me to actually use Adolf Hitler as a servant. It’s  _ Adolf Hitler _ .

The second question I had to ask myself after answering the one above was “How accurately do you want to portray one of the most monstrous human beings in history?” I still have yet to answer that. Sure, the stereotyped Hitler would’ve been fun to do, but I think it's more interesting if I wrote him as a Nietzsche fanboy (I haven’t actually read a lot of Nietzsche, either). I figured the less time I spend agonizing over writing Hitler, the less time I’d have to spend trying to explain myself as to why I decided to put Hitler in my story.

What does it say about me when I have the Zoroastrian Antichrist, an aspect of Death itself, and _motherfucking_ _Hitler_ in my story, but Diarmuid’s bastard child is still the main villain?


End file.
